


Long Live the King

by VioletRoseLily



Category: 16th Century CE RPF, The Spanish Princess (TV), The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family, Friendship, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletRoseLily/pseuds/VioletRoseLily
Summary: Between 1495-1502, four important Crown Princes died in history. But what if they didn't? What if when Arthur Tudor became king of England, those three princes were his counterparts? Arthur and Katherine try to maintain the peace between their relatives both in Europe and in England. Europe may be different but the politics are no less deadly.





	1. The Start of a New Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boy King of France is a worrywart, the Prince of Portugal is too young to appear in this chapter, the Prince of Spain is a loudmouth who nearly caused a diplomatic incident but is a loving father, husband and brother. In England, King Henry is pondering, Prince Harry is being a brat and Prince Arthur is in love with his wife.

_**January 3 1500** _

_**France** _

He had been only five when his father died of a head injury. He and his father were quite similar. They were both named Charles, they both became Kings of France at a tender age and both were the only sons of their parents.

King Charles IX was an observant boy despite his young age and he often heard his servants gossiping when they thought he was not there or occupied with something that made him deaf to their whispers. They said his father was frivolous man and that his aunt had been the true power behind the throne as he gallivanted off hunting or playing sports. That he had certainly doomed his dynasty by dying so soon leaving only a single male heir who was even younger than he had been when he came to the throne at thirteen. Such talk caused the young King to worry.

Even though he was only seven, Charles could not help but wonder if their reign would be similar or would he fail as a king, leaving nothing but pain and destruction in his wake.

"Oh sweetheart, how can you think such depressing thoughts?" his mother asked when he confided to her of his worries. She lifted him onto her lap, cuddled him close. "While it's true there have been a bit of bad luck in your father's day but there were plenty of good things. For example: the most clever and delightful boy was born." With that she tickled her son, causing the normally somber boy to laugh.

"Do you think I'll be a good king, Mama?" Charles asked softly, putting his arms around her neck and lying his head on her chest, inhaling her comforting scent.

"Of course I do," Anne of Brittany assured him, kissing the top of his head. "You will be a great king. You mustn't worry about the future or you'll never enjoy the present."

"That sounds like something Papa would say," Charles laughed, thinking fondly of his boyish father who never seemed to stop laughing and being merry.

"I'm sure he would have said it if he were here," Anne murmured softly, a sad look crossing her face.

She might not have been in love with Charles but she cared for him greatly as much as she now cared for his cousin who she had married eight months after Charles' death in order to keep her son's regency from being taken out of her hands.

Both of her husbands were kind to her despite her many miscarriages and the fact that she had only one child with each of them. She had failed her duty as wife and queen so many times that if it weren't for her dear boy's survival, she might have let France down completely. She prayed that when her son was older, he would not only be a good king but he would have many sons to make sure that the Valois dynasty was secure.

Louis was currently in negotiation with the English for his stepson to have King Henri Tudor's daughter as his bride. If all went well, Charles and Princess Élisabeth would be married in six years and they would give Anne a few grandsons before they turned twenty.

But for now, she would make sure Charles still enjoyed his childhood. Even though it pleased her that her son was acting so grown up, it saddened her to think that he was already weighed down by the mere thought of ruling a kingdom. He could work on becoming a good king when he had his queen and heir. For now, he should be innocent and carefree.

"Come sweetheart, I'm sure Claude wishes to see us," Anne suggested, getting up off the chair, still holding her son as she walked towards the nursery where his month-old half-sister was sleeping. "Don't you think she'd enjoy a visit from her big brother?"

"Yes Mama," Charles replied dutifully.

* * *

_**Spain** _

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!" her father bellowed, causing Catalina to reconsider disturbing them.

"HOW DARE I? HOW DARE YOU LET YOUR WHORE GO NEAR MY DAUGHTERS!" Juan roared, unwilling to back down despite the fact that he was usually the type of man who would never disrespect his parents. "IT'S BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU FLAUNT YOUR SLUTS IN FRONT OF MOTHER BUT ACTUALLY LETTING HER IN THE NURSERY TO VISIT MY DAUGHTERS IS GOING TOO FAR!"

"THEY ARE MY GRANDDAUGHTERS AND I WILL VISIT THEM WITH WHOMEVER I WANT TO COME WITH ME!" Fernando thundered.

Juan must have realized that he was fighting a losing battle because he said no more and instead he stormed out of his father's apartments. The angry scowl on his face lightened when he spotted his youngest sister in the corridor.

"My dearest sister, I was wondering you would grace me with your presence," he greeted her teasingly. "Where have you been hiding yourself?"

"I've been cooing over my nephew and keeping your wife company," Catalina explained, smiling softly as she thought of the dear little boy who had just been born a few days ago.

"Tell me, Catalina, does Margarita miss me as much as I miss her?" Juan asked as he offered his arm to his young sister so they could walk together, away from their father's rooms. His eyes were filled with affection and longing as he thought of his wife.

"Very much so," Catalina replied. "She longs for the day when she will be allowed to get out of bed and rejoin the court."

"Well considering it was not twins this time, I'm sure she'll be churched in no time," Juan said cheerfully. "Then we'll spend some quality time with Margarita, Isabel and Alfonso before they have to be sent back to their own household."

Catalina couldn't help but wonder, not for the first time, if her brother had deliberately chosen to name his son after their mother's brother as a slight against their father.

Juan revered their father and their mother and he was just as religious as they were. However, unlike most men, Juan did not believe that it was a man's right to seek a mistress when he was already married. He looked down upon the men who could not control themselves as much as he did with the woman who seduced married men. That might not be such a problem if the Spanish Infante wasn't so hot-headed and outspoken about his views especially when it came to their father's mistresses- he also made his opinion on their brother-in-law's affairs known to the entire court.

" _If Juana ever needs me to save her from her husband's humiliation, I would be there in a heartbeat, challenging him to duel for her honor," Juan had proclaimed after he had quite a few drinks. He then turned to his youngest sister as he spoke his next words. "And if King Enrique's son ever treats you badly, Lina, I will bring the entire Spanish army to rescue you from him."_

He even had the gall to say that within the English Ambassador's hearing. Luckily according to Arturo, King Enrique had not taken offense to Juan's remarks and he had shared the story with his son with good cheer. But that did not make Catalina feel better, knowing her brother could have easily wrecked the treaty between England and Spain. It would have broken her heart if she was unable to marry the Prince of Wales. Despite never meeting Arturo in person, they had sent each other countless letters, both of them counting the days until Catalina would finally go to England and they would be man and wife.

"Lina, am I boring you?" Juan questioned with a chuckle, coming to a stop so his sister would realize that she had been ignoring him for several minutes.

"No, of course not," Catalina told him, blushing in embarrassment. "I was just thinking of my upcoming departure to England for my wedding." She and Arturo had been married by proxy but knowing she was just a year away from being properly married was as exciting as it was nerve-racking.

"I hope that you and the Prince of Wales will be as happy as Margarita and I are," Juan said with a fond smile as he grabbed his sister's head to lay a kiss on the top of her red hair.

"Your Grace, Your Grace, you must come quickly!" the twins' duenna called as she ran up to them, her eyes wild with fear. "Infanta Margarita tried waking her sister up but she is unresponsive. We called for a-"

She was interrupted when Juan nearly knocked her aside as he took off running towards the nursery. Both Catalina and the flustered duenna rushed after him.

The nursery was composed of a few chambers, the crib for the newborn Alfonso was in a room adjacent to his sisters' bedchambers. However, his father did not stop to greet him as he normally would and instead charged into the bedchamber where the royal physician was examining Infanta Isabel.

Catalina, however, went to the antechamber where her other niece was sitting in a chair crying in a maid's arms. Once she saw her aunt, she flew into Catalina's embrace, sobbing almost incoherently.

"At first I thought she was just playing a game and wouldn't wake even when I told her that Mama wanted us to visit her but then I touched her forehead and it was burning. I kept calling her name but she wouldn't wake up. It's not funny anymore. Tell her to stop playing that game. She's scaring me," Margarita sobbed, burying her face into Catalina's dress, tears rolling down her chubby cheeks.

Catalina didn't know what to say so she prayed, repeating the familiar Latin words in hopes it would soothe not only the crying child but herself. Her sweet niece was only a few months shy of being three, surely God would not take her from her family.

Hours later, Margarita had fallen asleep in her grandmother's arms. Queen Isabel and King Ferdinando had come only a few minutes after they were told that their granddaughter was ill. Juan's wife was still in her chambers and Catalina doubted she had been told of her daughter being sick least that hindered her recovery. Infante Alfonso was still asleep in his crib unaware of the tension happening in the chambers adjacent to his room.

Queen Isabel had just handed the toddler to her duenna so she could put Margarita in another bedchamber when Juan walked in, tears rolling down his cheeks making his beard damp.

"She's gone; my precious girl is gone," he whispered, his eyes narrowing when he looked at his father. The sorrow on his face were replaced with a dark look of blame and anger.

* * *

_**England** _

King Henry squinted at the papers before him, finding the candlelight was not bright enough to illuminate the darkened room. He was looking over the King of Scots' proposal for a marriage agreement between him and Princess Margaret. The monarch studied the papers, making notes on the parchment to remind himself of what he would want to bring up with his Lord Chancellor and Lord Treasurer. As much as it galled him to give such a large dowry, King Henry knew he might not be able to avoid it if he wanted to make peace with Scotland.

If he played his cards right, all three of his daughters would be queen. Margaret would be Queen of Scots, Elizabeth would be Queen of France and as for little Mary if she married Prince Miguel, she would be the future Queen of Portugal. The loss of money from the treasury would be well worth it if he could strengthen the bounds between England and the foreign powers. Besides Princess Katherine's dowry would make up for some of the loss.

Henry smiled, pleased that the Tudor Dynasty and England was becoming so strong. He had three daughters and three sons. Even though he thought that Prince Henry and Prince Edmund should join the clergy, he now wondered if perhaps he should plan for beneficial marriages for his younger sons that would give England more allies. Although he still feared that there would be another civil war- another war between royal cousins- if Henry and Edmund had sons, the old King could not help but think his previous thought was worth considering.

For now, he would focus on making a treaty with Scotland which would hopefully end the two countries' centuries old feud. Not to mention, he would have to make sure that the wedding plans for Prince Arthur and Princess Katherine were running smoothly.

* * *

_**April 2 1502** _

Princess Katherine tried to keep her eyes on her sewing but she could not help but stare at her husband as he fenced with Henry Norris. Although they had become friends through the letters they wrote each other, Katherine had not expected to fall utterly in love with Arthur as she did. Was this how John had felt when he married Margaret? She hardly expected to fall so hard and so fast for Arthur as she had the moment she laid eyes on him.

And just like her brother and his wife, Katherine had fallen pregnant in the early weeks of their marriage; not that she had known that until the physician confirmed it two months ago. Both she and Arthur had been overjoyed when they found out.

_Despite his duties with the Welsh council, Arthur insisted remaining with his wife when Dr. Linacre arrived to check on her. He knew she had been sick during the mornings and was aware from observing his own mother what that usually signified. Although he hadn't dared mention his suspicions aloud, Katherine could see the excitement in his eyes._

_He held her hand as Dr. Linacre announced his diagnosis: "Congratulation, Your Graces, you are indeed three-months pregnant. You will give birth near the end of August I believe."_

_Katherine clasped her hand to mouth in muffle her squeal of surprise and elation._

_Arthur let out a joyous laugh as he fell to his feet, placing both hands on her belly as though he hoped to feel the baby growing inside already. "Oh my love, you have made the happiest man in the world!" he declared, kissing her belly and hands before leaping up to kiss her lips._

_He would be a father before he turned sixteen and she would be a mother before she turned seventeen. God was surely smiling on their marriage as He would bless them with a child before their one-year anniversary._

"Your Grace, I don't think that Dona Elvira will be happy that you are daydreaming instead of focusing on your knitting," Maria de Salinas teased her with a knowing smirk on her face.

Katherine's cheeks turned pink and suddenly felt heated as she quickly returned to her sewing. "I wasn't daydreaming, I was just remembering how Arthur reacted to our wonderful news," she said truthfully.

"I don't think there is a person in all of England who doesn't share your joy," Maria remarked. The Prince and Princess of Wales had made the birth announcement just a fortnight ago and they were already receiving countless letters from various courtiers who wished to make their happiness at the news known.

"Lady Maria, would you be so kind to let me and my wife have a moment alone. I'm sure Lord Willoughby will be happy to keep your company," Arthur suggested as he and his companions walked up to the two Spanish ladies.

Katherine could not help but giggle at the blush on Maria's face as she curtsied and went over to William Willoughby who seemed to be very pleased to talk to her.

Arthur quickly took Maria's vacant seat next to Katherine, his hand lightly touching her swollen belly before giving her a chaste kiss on her lips.

"I must admit I'm a little disappointed. While I was sparring with Norris, I could feel your eyes on me and wanting to impress you, I knocked him down only to see that you had missed my victory," Arthur said playfully.

"I apologize, mi amour, if I had known what my gaze had accomplished I wouldn't have dared to turn away," Katherine assured him.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart, are you cold or hot? Is there anything I can get for you, anything at all?" he asked her.

"No, I am well," Katherine replied, biting her lip so not to smirk at the way Arthur was acting like a mother hen towards her. Although he didn't act like she was made of brittle glass like Dona Elvira did, he still would ask many questions to make sure that she was happy and comfortable. She supposed he feared that she would be too stubborn to speak up if he didn't ask her directly.

"Good but you know that if there is anything you desire I will make sure you have it straight away."

"I know," she replied, her eyes full of affection.

Arthur smiled at her, only for it to turn into a grimace when he spotted something behind her. Katherine turned her head to see a man dressed in the King's livery coming towards them.

"I'll be right back," Arthur said with a sigh, stroking her cheek before meeting with the page.

After talking to the page and then dismissing him, the Prince of Wales walked back to his wife, with an annoyed expression on his face. Katherine knew immediately what was wrong.

"Your father wants us back at court, doesn't he?" she guessed. Once they learned of the Princess of Wales' pregnancy, the King, the Queen and the King's mother had wanted the newlyweds to return to court so she could give birth there.

"He feels if we wait any longer, it will be dangerous for you to travel," Arthur explained, a hint of displeasure rang in his voice.

It wasn't that he didn't like court but he enjoyed spending time with Katherine without the judging eyes of his grandmother and father. He hoped that once the baby was born, he or she would be able to return to Ludlow with him and his wife instead of being sent to Eltham far away from its parents. In hopes to convince King Henry to allow this, Arthur knew it would be better to agree with his demands now.

"They might have a point," Katherine spoke up, thinking of her oldest sister who had died due to complication with the birth of Prince Miguel. It was said that part of the reason for her death was she had been traveling too much despite being heavily pregnant. "I think it would be safer for our son and me, if we left for court now instead of later."

"Catalina, my love, you know that having a daughter this early in our marriage would be a blessing," Arthur assured her, unwilling to let his wife think that she needed to give birth to a son as his father and grandmother continued to stress that she did.

Of course he would need a son eventually but he wasn't even King yet and he and Katherine were only teenagers. A prince would be wonderful but a healthy princess would just as good especially this early in their marriage.

"I know but I can feel it in my heart that we will have a boy," Katherine informed him, lying her hand on top of his. "A boy as handsome as his father."

"And afterwards we will have girls as beautiful as their mother," Arthur agreed, kissing her softly on the lips.

They sat there together, discussing possible names for their future children. They would leave Ludlow in just a few hours and would be in London by tomorrow but for now they simply enjoyed their last few moments of their private honeymoon.

* * *

Meanwhile miles away at Eltham Palace, the five other Tudor children had just been informed that they would be returning to court for May Day until the Princess Katherine had given birth to their nephew.

Princess Margaret was thrilled that she would get to be there for the birth of her niece or nephew. After all, in January, she would be off to Scotland to marry King James and it pleased her that least she got to be here for one more big occasion.

Princess Elizabeth was practicing her French, wanting to show her parents how much better she had gotten with her lessons. Although the wedding would not take place until King Charles and she were fourteen, Elizabeth would be going to France in three years and she was eager to learn everything she could about her future country.

Princess Mary and Prince Edmund were just six and three respectively so the only excitement they had about going to court was being reunited with their parents, brother and sister-in-law. They constantly asked their governesses when they would be leaving, eager to get to Greenwich Palace.

Prince Harry was not as happy as his siblings were. In fact, he felt rather grumpy. His birthday was in two months and it would be overshadowed by Arthur and his unborn child.

Not for the first time, Henry wondered why God couldn't have made him the Prince of Wales. Arthur was so meek and mild, he would let anyone walk over him, he got tired easily and rarely played sports. The Duke of York, on the other hand, was the complete opposite and in his opinion that was what made him a bitter fit for king.

It was so unfair that Arthur got be the heir to his father's throne, got to marry the prettiest princess in Christendom and would one day be King of England, while Henry was stuck as a duke, the less important second son who would be a member of the clergy, never to marry or father an heir in fear that his son would become an enemy of his royal uncle and cousins.

Part of Henry wished that he would get a niece instead of a nephew when Princess Katherine gave birth but that was not something he would dare to say aloud. Not even to Elizabeth who he shared most of his grievances with.

"My birthday is four days after yours and you don't see me complaining about it being overshadowed," Elizabeth pointed out, annoyed at her brother' sulkiness. She had only three birthdays left in England and she didn't care how they were celebrated as long as she got to spend time with her family who she would be leaving behind when she went to France.

"I know that, Lily, I just hate thinking that while everyone is toasting me, they'll be thinking about Arthur and his baby," Henry grumbled, kicking his feet aimlessly. "Everyone thinks the baby is more important than me."

"Just like you are more important than Margaret and just like Edmund is more important than Mary and me," Elizabeth said coolly.

Henry opened his mouth to remind her that of course boys were more important than girls- boys could inherit kingdoms, girl could not- but his words died on his tongue when he saw his sister's withering glare.

"All right, fair enough," Henry conceded, not wanting to fight with his favorite sister. Elizabeth might have been born a year and four days after him but they were practically twins. "I'll still be important to you though, right?"

"Of course you are, Harry," Elizabeth assured him. "Now come on, I've been itching to play a round of chess with someone who actually challenges me."

"Oh so you don't actually let me win?" Henry teased her as he knew she had often made a bad move when playing with Mary, who was just learning how to play the game, in order to boost her sister's confidence.

"Well you are a sore loser," Elizabeth reminded him, grinning when she saw the outrage on his face- either at the implication that he had ever lost or that she had actually let him win.

"Lily, if I catch you going easy on me, I will be very cross," Henry said sternly, speaking in the same tone his governess did whenever he was naughty.

"All right, I won't go easy on you but if I win, you have to tell Arthur you love him," Elizabeth told him, enjoying the look of horror on Henry's face.

"It's a good thing, I won't lose. In fact, if I win, you must give me your desert for the next week," Henry challenged.

"Deal," Elizabeth agreed, sticking out her hand for Henry to shake. Once they had settled their terms, they brought out a chess board and began to play.

Sometime later, when Margaret entered the room, Henry was completely red in the face while Elizabeth looked a little too pleased.

"Don't worry, Harry, it's not like I said you have to do it out loud," Elizabeth assured him, causing him to relax and actually sigh in relief.

"Do I want to know what's going on here?" Margaret asked, raising an eyebrow. Both Elizabeth and Henry shook their heads. "Mistress Jones says that we'll be leaving in an hour. So you two better change into your traveling clothes."

* * *

Inside the Palace of Placentia, Queen Elizabeth, King Henry and Lady Margaret Beaufort were discussing the Prince and Princess of Wales.

"Arthur has asked for any children he has while he is the Prince of Wales to be raised at Ludlow for the time being," Henry read from the recent letter he had received from his son which had arrived just as he had sent his summons for the royal couple to return to court.

"He probably wrote this under _her_ influence," Margaret grumbled, not liking how devoted her grandson was to his new wife. A man should never be controlled by any woman and yet Arthur was willing to allow Katherine to not only sit in on his council meetings but also to take part in them.

She had been shocked when Henry had refused to put a stop to that, reasoning that as long as Arthur was still running his council, asking for his wife's opinion, who knew just as much about ruling a country as he did, was harmless.

"So what if he did? Eltham is so far away from Ludlow, I don't blame either of them for wanting to keep their children close," Elizabeth of York said sweetly, touching her husband's arm as if to remind him of his own children who were due to arrive at court in a few hours.

In King Henry's opinion, he didn't have many years left to live so his son's children- God willing Arthur would have more than one by the time he became King- would only spend a few years at Ludlow. However, he wasn't going to say that to his wife and his mother.

"I agree but that is matter for when the baby arrives," Henry said calmly, folding Arthur's letter and putting it in his desk. "For now, we should discuss different matters such as my other two sons."

Elizabeth and Margaret exchanged a hopeful look. Margaret was always fond of Henry and never tried to hide the fact that she preferred him over Arthur; she felt that if her first-born grandson failed to have a healthy male heir, Henry should be free to marry just in case he had to save the Tudor Dynasty. As for Elizabeth, she loved all three of her sons and wanted them to be happy: she knew for a fact that Henry did not want to become a member of the clergy and had hoped that neither he nor Edmund would be forced to do something they didn't want to do.

"What have you decided?" Margaret prompted her son. Although she and Elizabeth were always courteous to each other, this was the first time she had worked together with her daughter-in-law in hopes to convince her son to do make sure his dynasty did not rest on her weak grandson and his equally weak wife.

"I have decided that because this ultimately affects Arthur, that it should be his decision whether or not he wants to allow his brothers to marry or become men of God," Henry declared. "I will council Arthur best I can, remind him of the civil wars England has gone through but as he is the future king and it is his reign, I will let him decide whether or not to trust that his brothers and their sons won't be enemies of him and his sons."

Elizabeth could not help but wonder if her husband really thought their boys were capable of turning on each other like that. But it didn't matter as she knew that Arthur would never force Henry and Edmund into doing something that wouldn't make them happy. Her son had a kind heart and she doubted that Henry and Edmund would ever betray their loving older brother. She ignored the nagging voice in her head that insisted on reminding her of her Uncle George and Uncle Richard. The sons of Tudor would remain united and would not turn against each other like the sons of York had.

* * *

_**August 31 1502** _

It was a hot summer's day when Katherine had gone into labor. Despite feeling that boarding up windows was better for a pregnant woman, Lady Margaret had ordered the windows to be open so Katherine would not have a heat stroke as she struggled to bring the newest Tudor prince into the world.

Elizabeth of York held Katherine's hands as the sixteen-year-old pushed the baby out of her. Maria was on the other side of the bed patting Katherine's forehead with a damp cloth.

"How much longer?" Katherine cried, the pain was almost to much for her to bear. "I don't think I can take it anymore."

"I was thirteen when I gave birth to my son and I had the exact same thoughts as you did," Margaret told her gently, her voice was far warmer than Katherine had ever heard it. "I managed to get through it and so will you. I promise you it will be worth it once you have your son in your arms."

"I can see the head, Your Grace, you are nearly there," the midwife spoke up from the end of the bed.

Katherine gripped Elizabeth's hand tightly as she pushed again, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming.

Finally the pain stopped and Katherine rested her head against the pillow, her eyes closed in relief. Queen Elizabeth went over to the midwife and Lady Margaret who were tending to the newborn.

When she heard the baby wailing, Katherine suddenly realized that no one had mentioned the baby's sex. She opened her eyes and was about to ask what it was when she noticed the huge smiles on Margaret and Elizabeth's faces.

It was a boy.

She waited patiently for the midwife to place the baby in her arms, her eyes filled with happy tears. Lady Margaret was right, her prince had been worth all the pain he put her though. Arthur and she had a son. God had truly blessed them.

"Well I think we should let the new parents get to know their baby," Margaret remarked as she and Elizabeth ushered the ladies out.

Katherine was so absorbed with her son that she barely heard Margaret's words nor did she even realize that her husband was in the room until Arthur sat down on the bed next to her.

"He's perfect," Arthur breathed, kissing the top of her head before studying the boy in her arms.

"Doesn't he look just like you?" Katherine inquired, getting lost in those blue eyes that were the exact shape and color of Arthur's.

"Perhaps but he has your button nose," Arthur told her, poking her nose to emphasis his point. "Catalina, you have made me so happy first by being my wife and now by giving me this wonderful gift." His wife beamed at him before returning to the bundle who was waving his little hands at both of them.

"Speaking of this gift, he needs a name," Katherine said as her son caught his father's finger in his little hand, making her heart swell with joy and love.

"Well I know we thought we should name him after someone in our family," Arthur began, knowing that despite the love she had for her brother, Katherine would insist on choosing a name like Henry or Edmund. "But my parents named me after Arthur of Camelot so perhaps we should choose a famous king to name our son after."

"How about William after William the Conquer?" Katherine suggested.

Arthur smiled down at his son. "Welcome Prince William."

His son was a good omen for his future reign. Arthur was sure that he and Katherine would be the King and Queen of a golden age for not only England but also Europe. William Tudor's birth was just the beginning of a wonderful future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all because I don't like translating dialogue into another languages for scenes in other countries (I think disrupts the flow), I thought that at least I should use the correct versions of names that the characters have in the countries that aren't England with some exceptions. If it's too annoying, tell me and I'll change it.
> 
> Also I find it funny that in the Tudor fandom Anne Boleyn AUs, Princess Elizabeth Tudor is often sent to marry Prince Charles of France (who will sometimes become King Charles IX) and technically it's true here as well.
> 
> So what do you guys think of Prince John and King Charles? I wanted to make them different from their historical counterparts. I know that it's probably too soon to judge especially when Charles is only seven but I would love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Anyway, please be sure to review and send your comments, complaints and criticism. If you have any questions or thoughts, please share them. I live off of feedback.


	2. Royal Civil War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tudor family is growing bigger. Two royal fathers come to decisions about their sons future. John of Spain's feud with his father escalates. King Charles spends time with his cousins. Katherine deals with emotional blows while Arthur does his best to support her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, people have spoken so I will be having Anne Boleyn marrying someone else, maybe someone who is only a year younger than her. Wink, wink. Nudge Nudge.
> 
> I have also decided that the Princess Mary and Miguel marriage is going to go through which as a bonus gives me an excuse to develop Prince Miguel a little bit.
> 
> By the by, I'm not having John of Spain and Charles of France appear in all of the chapters but some more plot important characters needed to be introduced, along with a very important plot point.

_**May 12 1504** _

"Sit down boy or you will drive yourself insane," King Henry ordered gruffly, as he moved his chess piece forward, knocking aside his opponent's knight.

"She's having twins, Father," Prince Arthur said as though his father had somehow missed that little factoid. "That means the chances that she'll die from childbirth have now been doubled." While the whole family celebrated Katherine's pregnancy, Arthur was far more concerned about his wife's health.

Even Lady Margaret was pleasantly surprised when the royal physician revealed that the Princess of Wales was carrying two babies who would be born a few months before their brother's second birthday. It seemed that her doubts of Arthur and Katherine's fertility was largely unfounded.

King Henry sighed as he forfeited the chess game and focused on his still pacing son. He sent everyone beside Arthur out of the room so he could talk to his son in private.

"Arthur, Katherine is a strong woman. She'll be fine," King Henry told him, his voice oddly soft.

"I know," Arthur said with a sigh. Katherine had gotten quite fed up with his nervousness, even snapping at him at one point, something she had never done before and she had immediately apologized for doing so. Still she wouldn't want him worrying, so he must calm down for her. He quickly changed the subject to a more inane one, using it as a distraction until Katherine had delivered. "Katherine and I have decided to name them Henry and John if they are two boys, Katherine and Margaret if they are two girls. And if they are a boy and a girl John and Katherine."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Not Arthur?" he questioned, surprised that his son would name his daughter after his wife but not his son after himself.

"I thought I would use John, Henry, and Edmund before using Arthur," the Prince of Wales explained modestly. He told Katherine quite firmly that considering she was the one giving birth to twins, it was only right that one of the girls was named after her.

"And if you have a sixth son?" King Henry asked, bemused by his son's words. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of Arthur having double the number of sons that his father had. However, he was aware that having six sons could bring trouble with their descendants causing another War of the Roses.

Perhaps his mother was right, no matter what happened there was always the possibility that the War of the Roses could happen a second time. Not even sending Henry and Edmund to become priests was guaranteed to put a stop to a future civil war.

"I suppose I could name him Owen or Jasper," Arthur suggested. Even though he had never met his great-grandfather, he knew that without Owen there would be no Tudor claimant to the throne. As for his great-uncle Jasper, he had one or two memories of the older man and was well aware of how much he meant to his father who was practically raised by him.

"I just wish I could be alive long enough to see that," Henry laughed. Arthur fell silent and shifted uncomfortably; the thought of his father dying was an unpleasant one. As if his father could read his thoughts, he rolled his eyes. "I'm not dead yet, boy, I've got some years left in me. Enough time to shape you into a good king."

"According to Grandmother, there is little hope for that," Arthur jested with a frown.

"Here's your first lesson, don't let yourself be shaped by other's opinions of you," Henry said firmly. "My mother thinks that there are those who are born to be king and those we are not. I, on the other hand, think even if you are born to be king, that doesn't mean you can be a good monarch without the proper skills. You are on your way to having those skills."

Arthur couldn't help but beam at his father, feeling touched as the older man rarely ever gave a compliment to his children. Before he could say anything in response, a page came running in with a message that Princess Katherine had given birth to a boy and a girl.

Both Arthur and Henry left the King's apartments for the Princess of Wales' chambers. Once they got there, Arthur made a beeline for his wife and newborn children while Henry went over to his wife, mother and younger children.

"Henry, please tell me that you will stop that son of yours from letting his wife name his children non-Tudor names," Margaret grumbled, looking very annoyed. Henry guessed that Katherine had told her mother- and grandmother-in-law what names she had and Arthur had chosen for the twins. "While I understood why they named their first-born William, the twins names should be Henry and Margaret."

Elizabeth and Henry met each other eyes and the queen had to look away least she started laughing. They could just imagine Margaret's displeasure had Katherine and Arthur chosen Henry and Elizabeth for their twins.

"Mother, Princess Katherine spent hours giving birth to two babies, when Elizabeth gave birth to twins, I was willing to let her name both of them," Henry said, before grimacing slightly. Edmund's twin brother had lived for a few hours. He had been devastated at little Edward's death and part of him wished that he had named both of them after members of his wife's family. "If sure that when Arthur has another girl, he will name her Margaret." He didn't add that Arthur would probably be naming his second daughter after his sister, the Queen of Scots, instead of his grandmother.

"I suppose," Margaret muttered, patting her daughter-in-law's arm as the queen had a rather melancholy look on her face. She had miscarried last February and the royal physician had said that she might not have another child. The mention of her dead son was a painful reminder of that.

Henry took his wife's hand in his, squeezing it gently. Six out of the eight Tudor children had lived and were continuing to thrive. Although he was sorry that his wife could not have any more children, he was more than happy for his son to fill the royal nursery while he focused on getting his country ready for Arthur to become king.

* * *

"Harry, may I ask you something?" Prince Edmund questioned, causing his brother to look up from his book.

Prince Henry smiled indulgently at his younger brother. Edmund practically worshiped the ground he walked on, something the twelve-year-old prince rather enjoyed.

"Of course you may, Ned, what is it?"

"When Arthur becomes king, will you still be the Duke of York?" Edmund inquired innocently.

Henry fought back a scowl. The Duke of York had been created for the king's second son and Edmund had unwittingly brought up the resentment he felt at not only playing second fiddle to Arthur but the idea that he was easily replaceable.

The fact that both Prince William and the new Prince John had bumped him down the line for his father's throne was bad enough but the idea that John could strip his title from him was even worse. Thankfully Henry knew that wasn't the way it worked and even if it was, he knew Arthur well enough to know that his older brother would give Henry a different dukedom instead of downgrading him completely.

"While it's true that the second son of a king gets to be the Duke of York, that title is hereditary and therefore the only way Arthur would give it to his sons would be if I died without any," Henry explained, knowing that if his father got his way, the second son of William's firstborn son-if not William's second son- would be the next Duke of York after Henry.

Before Edmund could ask a follow up question, Arthur arrived at the royal children's apartments, looking pleased as can be.

"Is Willie still taking his nap?" he asked Lady Howard, William's governess.

"Yes, your Majesty," she replied. "But I can wake him up if you wish."

"No, let him sleep," Arthur said firmly before turning to greet his siblings.

Elizabeth, Edmund and Mary rushed towards him, hugging him as they would their father. Henry, who felt that being on the cusp of manhood meant that he had to act like an adult, merely put his book down and bowed shallowly.

"Will you not indulge your brother with a hug, Your Grace?" Arthur implored him, with a small smile.

Prince Henry rolled his eyes, something that he knew his brother would not be offended by, and joined his siblings in his oldest brother's arms. It was hard to keep a rivalry with his brother when it was one-sided. After all, despite being resentful of being the second son, Henry was fully aware that it wasn't Arthur's doing and if their roles were reversed, his brother would be content as the Duke of York.

Later he would learn that he had been chosen as Prince John's godfather and he felt oddly happy with that. Perhaps when John was older he would feel resentful at being the second son. As his uncle and godfather, Henry would be able to lend a sympathetic ear to his nephew.

He just hoped that William was just as understanding and kind as Arthur was to him.

* * *

 

_**May 23 1504** _

 

King Henry read the reports from France, Spain, Germany, the Lowlands and Portugal.

After some discussion with the French, it was decided that Elizabeth would not go to France until she was fourteen so she could be wedded, bedded and crowned once she got there instead of waiting another two years.

By contrast, King Manual seemed eager for his son's bride come to Portugal at age ten so she could spend the rest of her childhood growing up with Infante Miguel and his half-siblings. Henry's councilors urged him to agree, fearing that King Manual might be convinced to look for a worthier match for his heir than the third daughter of the English ruler.

The Holy Roman Emperor, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella were eager to have Prince William marry one of his Habsburg cousins. Infanta Eleanor was only four years older than his grandson and she was a worthy match.

However, King Henry knew that by the time William was old enough to get married, he would be long dead so he thought it would be best to leave his grandchildren's marriages to Arthur. He would rather focus on his own children's marriages.

With Margaret and Arthur safely married and his youngest daughters' betrothals official and almost completed, only Harry and Edmund remained. A part of Henry still felt his sons were better off as clergymen, he had slowly grown more open to the idea of marrying off his sons. However, he could not make their matches as grand as he had done with Arthur.

For Henry, he would send a letter to the Dowager Countess of Angoulême, suggesting a marriage between her daughter, Marguerite and the Duke of York. As for Edmund, he would look towards the German Dukes for a perspective bride.

He hoped that he was doing the right thing as he still feared another long War of Roses but he was certain of one thing, through his son's marriages, the Tudor dynasty would continue to be strong and secure. Besides if Arthur had six sons, their cousins would find it quite hard to dispose of all of them.

* * *

Meanwhile in a different wing of the palace, unaware of his father musing, Arthur had brought William with him to visit his wife who was still recovering from giving birth.

"Mama, Mama," the one-year-old called, wiggling in his Papa's arms in an attempt to leap into his mother's outstretched arms.

"Oh my darling boy," Katherine greeted her son happily as Arthur handed the toddler to her before going to the other side of the bed to join them. "How I missed you!" She smothered her son's face with kisses. "Have you been a good boy?"

"Of course he has, our son is an angel," Arthur assured her, ruffling his son's hair affectionately.

William just nodded his head as she snuggled into his mother's embrace.

"Have you met your siblings yet?" Katherine inquired, knowing full well that he did but she wanted to know how her oldest felt about the newborn twins. Another nod. "Are you happy that you are a big brother now?" She prompted, only to receive another nod as an answer.

"I don't think our son feels like talking," Arthur said, stroking William's cheek. "You just wanted to be here with your mother, didn't you?"

"And you, Papa," William replied, grabbing his father's fingers with his tiny hand as if to prove his point.

Arthur beamed at him, kissing his golden-red hair before kissing his wife's lips.

"How are you feeling, my love?" he asked as Katherine laid her head on his shoulder.

"Tired and I can't wait to return to Ludlow," Katherine replied. As much as Katherine loved her mother-in-law, she honestly felt that Queen Elizabeth, Lady Margaret and Dona Elvira were suffocating her with their need to control every aspect of her life. At least at Ludlow, her duenna did not hold that much power and her in-laws could only send her letters with suggestions.

"I'm afraid that we won't be leaving until October, Cat," Arthur said sheepishly. "It was the only way to convince my father to let us stay there during the Christmastide."

Katherine smiled up at him, pleased that they got to spend William's second Christmas and the twins' first Christmas at their own court this time.

"I suppose I can wait until then, mi amour," she conceded, nuzzling his neck. "Perhaps they will be more willing to leave us alone now that we have three children."

After all, they would be twenty soon enough and were already in charge of their own, albeit smaller, court. Surely King Henry and his mother could leave the Prince and Princess of Wales to their own dealings. Within reason, of course, Katherine would never suggest to anyone that her father-in-law had no power over his own family once they reached adulthood.

"Wishful thinking but I doubt it. But at least at Ludlow, we can pretend that it's only you, me, Willie, Johnny and Kate," Arthur remarked, his eyes filled with affection.

"Our family," Katherine whispered softly.

Although she would never wish for her father-in-law's death, she could not happen but picture the moment she and Arthur would be crowned with their children standing around them, happy as can be. It would be a grand start to a glorious reign and with her help, Arthur would usher in a golden age for England.

* * *

 

**_November 30 1504_ **

**_  
_ **

"Griffith, my old friend, it is a pity that you are not married," Arthur remarked, once the meeting of the Welsh council was over. "If you had a son two years ago, he would be William's closest companion especially when it comes time for him to take my title as the Prince of Wales."

If King Henry lived for another ten years, Arthur was sure that William would join him on the Welsh council. Of course, the old monarch might choose to have the Prince of Wales take a seat on the royal privy council instead if William grew to that age while he was still alive.

However, if his father died when his son was still in his tender years, William would have a few years at Eltham before returning to Ludlow without his parents nor his siblings and Arthur would have liked it if Prince William was greeted by an old friend as well as his godfather.

"I apologize, Your Highness, but my father has yet to find a bride for me nor has there been a lady who has caught my eyes," Sir Gruffydd ap Rhys explained. "Besides, an eight-year difference didn't stop us, my lord."

Gruffydd's father was the de facto ruler of Wales and King Henry had decided it would be a good idea to have Gruffydd in the Prince of Wales' household. Despite the age difference, the boys had become fast friends.

"That is true but what of Catherine St. John? Whenever I bring you to visit my wife, I cannot help but see you talking to her as much as Lord Willoughby seems to be drawn to María," Arthur pointed out, smirking slightly when he saw that Gruffydd seemed rather flushed, all but confirming that his friend was correct.

"We are friendly but I have not yet gotten the courage to ask her father for her hand," Gruffydd explained. "After all, she is the half-niece of the fearsome Countess of Derby and Richmond."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the mention of his grandmother. "Well luckily, she has no say over the marriages of her nieces." He wasn't sure who Lady Margaret would have chosen as his wife but she had never approved of a Spanish bride.

With the rumors of his father arranging a French match for Henry, Arthur wondered if Margaret would be any happier with the daughter of a royal French count marrying her favorite grandson or would she be just as haughty towards her as she was to the current Princess of Wales?

Speaking of Katherine, Arthur was aware that she would have preferred that Henry was sent to the church as previously planned and she thought that at the very least one of her nieces would have been a better idea as England had already had one tie to France and they did not need another. With France still fighting with Spain over territories, Katherine was worried that England would side with France. However, Arthur was sure that if his frugal father wanted to spend a shilling on war, he wouldn't choose to side with the country England had been fighting with for hundreds of years.

When Arthur was King and his wife was Queen, he wanted his children to marry with different members of European royalty and nobility. But he would be pleased to arrange a marriage between a nephew and/or niece of his wife with one of their children.

For now, he didn't want to think of the future and instead focus on the present. With that thought in mind, he decided to forgo going riding and instead go to his wife's rooms instead of waiting to join her for supper.

When Prince Arthur was just a few feet from Princess of Wales' apartments, he distinctly heard muffled sobbing. At once he sped up the pace until he was practically sprinting into wife's bedchamber, not even giving the herald enough time to announce him or Dona Elvira enough time to explain to him what was going on.

Katherine was crying into a pillow, a letter crumbled in her hands. Arthur ordered her ladies to leave before crawling on the bed and holding her in his arms.

"What happened, my love?" Arthur asked, searching his mind for a reason why his normally unflappable wife would be so distressed. Their children were well: their governesses would have come and gotten him if they weren't. Then he remembered Katherine telling him that her mother had fallen ill.

"She's gone," Katherine sobbed into Arthur's chest, confirming his thoughts.

"Oh Cat, I'm so sorry," Arthur whispered, cursing himself for not knowing what else to say. He just held his wife until she could shed no more tears. He recited a soft prayer, knowing that Katherine and her mother both found solace in religion.

He had never known Queen Isabella except from what her daughter wrote about her in her letters but Arthur had a great amount of respect and gratitude for the Queen of Spain. Not only was she a remarkable woman who was not only a warrior but also the undisputed Queen Regent. She had proven what his ancestor Queen Militia could not, that a woman could rule a country.

Although he would never dare say so aloud, Arthur believed that the Tudor's claim for the English throne was rather shaky with his father coming from illegitimate stock so it was a rather big deal that the proud Spaniards had agreed to send a Spanish princess to marry the Prince of Wales.

Arthur would never be able to thank Isabella for sending him her youngest daughter who was the best of wives.

"I think our next daughter's name should be Isabella," Arthur remarked, kissing the top of his wife's head.

Katherine beamed at him as he kissed away her tears.

* * *

  _ **February 5 1505** _

_**Spain** _

_**  
** _

The more King Juan of Spain drank, the angrier he got. It had only been a few months since the death of his sainted mother and yet his father was spitting on her memory by not giving up the crown as they had promised each other they would do depending on who died first.

"How dare he!" he ranted. "I am the King of Spain! He has no right to say that we are both the Kings of Spain. That is ridiculous. A country can not have two kings." This was clearly just his father's attempt to control him as sons were always supposed to obey their parents. Not this time.

"Juan, my love, your father is offering a compromise. If you do not agree to this, he will divide Spain again," Margarita pointed out logically, trying to put a hand on his arm. She knew it would be hopeless. Her husband was always less reasonable when he had been drinking.

"I don't care! I am the true King of Spain and if he thinks that I will be taking this lying down, he has another thing coming," Juan spat, shaking his wife's hand off and standing in front of the fireplace, putting his arm on the mantle as he darkly watched the fire burn the wood into ashes.

"What are you saying?" Margarita demanded, horrified by the implication of what he was saying. "Will you lead an army to overthrow your father? Will you send your country into civil war? Will you win a crown drenched in blood to pass down to our son? Will your kill our children's grandfather?" She prayed that the mention of Margarita, Alfonso, and Juan would make him reconsider this madness.

"It was agreed upon that if either my father or mother died, the other would abdicate so I could rule over a united Spain. That bastard fully expected my mother to abide by the agreement so why should he do differently?" Juan spat, his hatred for his father shone through his reasonable words.

"Answer my questions," Margarita hissed, storming over to him, and grabbing his chin to force him to look at her. Many wives would be afraid of arguing with their husbands when they were drunk and angry, least they violently react. But Margarita was the daughter of the most powerful man in Europe and she refused to be cowed easily. Besides Juan might speak wildly especially when he was drunk but he would never raise a hand towards her or anyone else for that matter.

"I have a copy of that document hidden away, Margarita, and I will use it to rally the councilors of Aragon and Castile to my side. If we are lucky no blood will have to be spilled," Juan told her, his eyes lowered.

"And if we are not lucky?" Margarita asked.

"Then I will fight him as my mother fought against Juana of Castile," Juan replied coldly.

It didn't matter to him that his father was fifty-two and would die long before he did. It didn't matter that the man who he was plotting to dispose of was his own flesh and blood.

"I just hope that if Alfonso ever ends up hating you as you did your father, he won't be tempted to repeat history a second time," Margarita snarled.

"Watch your tongue, woman," Juan snapped, glaring at her.

Margarita couldn't help but smirk at him. There was something about his dark flashing eyes that was so attractive to her. Besides, she knew she could not do anything if Juan's mind was truly set on this. It was better to not fight with him and hope that this talk was nothing more than a drunken rant rather than her husband's true plans.

"And what, my lord, will you do if I do not curb my tongue?" she purred, fluttering her eyelashes as she leaned in with a sultry expression on her face. If there was one thing Juan enjoyed more than the wine it was the intoxicating smell of his wife.

"Well, madam, if you insist on using your mouth in ways that offends me, then I will have to find another use for it," Juan replied, grinning as he slammed her hips into his and roughly began sucking and biting the skin of her neck, his hands tearing off her corset.

Margarita was aware that she would have bruises tomorrow but the pleasure both she and her husband got from their love-making was worth a little pain.

* * *

 

_**Portugal** _

King Manuel was well aware of the Spaniard's pride. Having two Spanish wives made it impossible not to notice how arrogant they were. He did not mean that as an insult, he loved his Isabela and he adored his Maria but he often thought that they were often too pigheaded to see reason on certain subjects.

Darling Isabela had not heeded her physician's warnings that so much fasting and traveling while pregnant would be harmful to her and the baby. Because she believed that she was stronger than most wives, she died soon after the birth of their only son.

Maria, God bless her, learned from her sister's mistakes and took both the physician and the midwife's advice quite seriously. Because of this, they had three children in the past three years: Infante João, Infanta Isabel and the two-month-old Infanta Beatriz. But his second queen was still as prideful as her sister. She kept nagging him to arrange a marriage between her stepson/nephew and one of her nieces.

"If it must be an English princess, why not Catalina's new daughter?" Maria suggested, one evening over supper.

"Because we are already in negotiations for Miguel and the Princess Maria," Manuel told her, feeling slightly bemused at his wife's instance. He couldn't help but wonder if she simply felt that an English match was beneath an Infante of Portugal. "We can marry the new Princess Catalina to João if you would like." After all they were close in age.

"But Miguel is your first-born son, I would think he deserves a better match than a third daughter of an old king," Maria protested.

"Remind me again how many older sisters you have?" Manuel inquired, masterfully turning his chuckle into a cough.

Maria's lips twitched upwards, realizing that she had walked into that one.

"I suppose you have a point. I just worry that Miguel get the wrong idea if he gets an English princess while our son marries one of my nieces," she explained.

"Oh? Has he said something?" Manuel asked, suddenly concerned. While he knew that Miguel would have to do his duty no matter how he felt about the royal match, he would never want any of his children to think he was favoring one over the other.

"No, no, I suppose I'm just worrying needlessly," Maria admitted, with a sigh.

The Portuguese monarch smiled at his wife. They had married when Miguel was only two and so his aunt/stepmother was the only mother he had ever known. It was sweet how much Maria cared about him and wanted to do right by him.

"You are a good mother, Maria, I'm sure Isabel is touched by how much you care for her son," Manuel assured her, reaching across the table to pat her hand.

* * *

 

_**France** _

"My mother wanted me to be the King of France," the Count of Angoulême remarked. His older sister looked as though she wanted to slap him but Charles did not care. He liked it when his cousin spoke bluntly to him as barely anybody else would.

"Well you can tell her that if I could I would give you the crown and all that goes with it," he said half in jest.

Marguerite raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "By God, Charles, our cousin Louis and your mother are the regents. What would you know about the hardships?" she inquired, causing her brother to glare at her which was ironic considering she had been doing so to him just minutes before.

"Just because I haven't been making decisions, doesn't mean I have been sitting around doing nothing," Charles snapped. He was not a child, he had been learning how to govern since he was ten-years-old.

"I hope that you will lighten up by the time for your wedding, that English princess looks very pretty. Perhaps she will cheer you up," François commented, smiling at the portrait that the English Ambassador had given Charles of Elisabeth.

François was ten-years-old and already he seemed to find many ladies attractive and always seemed to be trying to charm them, a sure sign that he would be a flirt once he grew up-if he ever did.

"According to the council, we might have a double wedding," Charles said, smiling slightly when he saw his cousin blush. "Does the Duke of York please you, cousin?"

"Well he certainly has a way with words," Marguerite giggled, thinking of the recent letter she had gotten from her fiancé. "And what of his sister, Charles? I could swear that her letters seem to be the only thing to make you grin."

"She is nice," Charles replied vaguely, remembering that he needed to send her another letter before it got too late.

It was a little disappointing that it would be two more years before getting to meet the girl he only knew from letters. Elisabeth was amazing so witty and fun, he often wondered how she felt about marrying such a grave boy like himself.

"Look at his face, Marguerite, it's almost like he's in love," François teased, grinning at his reddening cousin.

"I am not," the twelve-year-old king snapped. "She's just nice, that's all."

"I do hope your adjectives are a lot more flowery in the future poems you write about her rather than simply calling her nice," Marguerite laughed, her eyes shinning with mirth.

Charles decided not to give them more ammunition and simply walked back into his chambers where he searched for a letter Elisabeth had sent him recently.

_Dear Charles,_

_It saddens me that my trip to France has been delayed, although I must admit spending almost three more years with my family is rather good. However, I still long to meet you and start my new life as your wife and queen._

_Have you ever been scared and excited at the same time, Charles? Well, that's how I feel about being your wife and queen. It's thrilling and yet so terrifying. I can only hope that we will have the happiness that my brother and sister-in-law have._

_I have decided that in preparation for my arrival in France, that I will wear nothing but French dresses. And furthermore, I shall…_

As Charles continued to read the letter from Elisabeth, his cousins' words replayed over and over again in his head. Although he would never admit it to them, he could not help but think that perhaps there was truth to what they said. After all, whenever he felt that the crown would be too heavy for him to wear, he would think of the woman who would wear the queen's crown and he would be elated.

* * *

 

_**April 16 1505** _

_**England** _

It seemed that all of Europe except England, Scotland and Ireland were going to war for some reason or another. But it wasn't the battles over territory that Katherine cared about even if she wished her father-in-law would help the Holy Roman Emperor's fight against France.

No, what concerned and upset her was that her birth country being torn apart by civil war. Her brother had insisted that he was the King of Spain and therefore deserved to have both the crowns of Aragon and Castile. Of course, King Ferdinand was willing to give up his role as king of Castile but he refused to abdicate the throne of Aragon. But John was unwilling to meet halfway and he chose to thrust his country into a civil war against his own father.

Katherine prayed for her mother to melt her brother's hardened heart so he would not end up killing their father. But it seemed that she was the only Spaniard who wanted a peaceful end for both of her relatives: her countrymen chose to take sides between Ferdinand and John. Even the Spaniards in England did so.

Dona Elvira was loyal to Queen Isabella but she hated King Ferdinand and her family was on John's side so she had sent the letters Katherine received from her father to John's allies so they could be used against Ferdinand.

When Katherine learned of this, she had been furious at being betrayed and used by her duenna and immediately went to Arthur so he could arrange for her dismissal.

"I don't want my brother to think that I am on my father's side but I refuse to be used against my father either," Katherine told him, as she paced around the room.

"I don't think your brother would be happy about that either," Arthur pointed out, thinking that as angry as John was, he would never want his youngest and favorite sister to be caught in the middle of this. He probably had no idea where Elvira's family was getting their information and if he did, he probably believed that it had been given willingly instead of unknowingly.

"Still I would prefer we found a different excuse to send that horrible woman back to Spain," Katherine said, still outraged at her duenna's actions.

"Well you are nearly twenty, my love, I think we can convince my father that you have no need for a duenna anymore," Arthur suggested. He was sure that King Henry would be happy to cut an expense from the Princess of Wales' household.

"Good, then I won't have to delay telling her to leave," Katherine said savagely.

"Cat, are you just angry at Dona Elvira?" Arthur asked, getting up and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, maneuvering her into sitting in a chair before retaking his seat.

"He's our father. How can John do this to our family?" Katherine demanded. "And why couldn't Father just have done what he agreed to do when Mother was alive?"

She was so angry at both of the men in her family and was so frustrating to know that they couldn't just discuss civilly like a family ought to instead of spilling innocent blood out of their stubbornness.

"Spanish pride?" Arthur suggested, only for his wife to shoot him a scathing look. "I can't say for certain but I do think that they both feel that they tried to talk things out but they couldn't come to an agreement. To them, it's the only way to settle who gets to be the King of Spain."

"Men and their little wars," Katherine muttered.

"If only all men could be like your mother and her niece," Arthur jested, reminding Katherine that technically Queen Isabella had to fight against the supposedly illegitimate daughter of her half-brother in order to keep the throne of Castile for herself.

"That's not funny," his wife grumbled, trying to keep the smile off her face.

"I'm sorry, my love, I'm just trying to cheer you up. Perhaps we should send for our children, would that make you happy?" Arthur asked hopefully.

"It would," Katherine replied, deciding that she could deal with her traitorous duenna later. For now, she would spend time with her three children.

Arthur sent one of his groomsmen to the royal nursery, to tell the three governesses that the Prince and Princess of Wales wanted to spend time with their children.

* * *

 

When the princess and the two princes were brought to their parents, Katherine smiled widely at the sight of them as did her husband.

Prince William was turning three this August and he was already growing like a weed, his golden-red hair was darkening slightly and he was losing his baby chubbiness. He ran directly into his mother's arms, kissing her cheeks with a resounding smack.

Prince John and Princess Katherine would turn one in a month. They were able to mimic their older brother's calls of "Mama" and "Papa".

Once William had finished greeting his mother, he went to his father to give him the same treatment. Katherine beckoned the two governesses to give the twins to her. However, they were much too big for both of them to fit in their mother's arms, so William had to sit between his parents as John sat in Katherine's lap and baby Katherine sat in her father's lap.

After sending the governesses outside the sitting room, Arthur and Katherine were left alone with their children.

"Now would anyone like to hear a story about King Arthur of Camelot?" Arthur questioned, knowing that even though William was the only one who could truly get excited for the story, the twins would enjoy being rocked in their parent's arms and listening to his voice.

"I would, Papa," William replied, his eyes lighting up.

"I'm sure you've already heard of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. Well this story is about a different King Arthur and his Queen Catalina, the daughter of a warrior Queen," Arthur told him, winking at Katherine playfully.

* * *

 

_**May 1 1505** _

Being King Henry's heir, Arthur was forbidden by his father to joust but on the third Mayday of his marriage with Katherine, Arthur decided to ignore his father's stipulation and enter the jousting tournament.

He rode under the name Sir Loyal Heart with the Katherine's badge as his banner.

"My Catalina, may I have your favor?" he asked, smiling at her.

Katherine beamed at him before tying her favor around his lance.

"Be careful, my Loyal Heart," Katherine implored him before reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

"With your favor, my lady, how can I possible fail?" he asked. "Besides a kiss from the Princess of Wales is the prize and I would rather not to lose such a grand prize to any other man."

"Even if you lose, you know that my true kisses are only for you," Katherine pointed out.

"True but I still want to win your kiss," Arthur insisted, sounding a little bit like Harry when he was being competitive.

Katherine smiled fondly as her husband moved his horse to the field where he would have his first match. It was wonderful when Arthur, who was not as theatrical as his brother, acted like a knight who lived to please his loving bride.

She was happy to be married to him and was glad that they continued to be blessed with children. According to the physician, there next child would be born in the end of November and Arthur had promised her that if it was a girl, they would name her Isabella after her mother. She was blessed with a kind and thoughtful man who was truly the best of husbands. She would have four children before she turned twenty and before she became the Queen of England.

All was well and Katherine was sure that nothing could go wrong. As if someone had heard her and decided to punish her for tempting fate, Arthur's opponent knocked him off his horse as his lance collided with Arthur's visor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel sorry for Joanna of Spain, in history she got a bad rep and apparently not even her mother thought she'd be a good queen. But John on the other hand, aside for a drinking problem, is male and has a son of his own. Not to mention his father and mother, before Ferdinand and John started fighting, said that after one of them dies the other would abdicate so John could be King of a united Spain. Therefore it's a lot easier for him to get supporters.
> 
> However his drinking and unwilling to back down are gonna cause trouble in the long run.
> 
> As for King Charles, he's still a tweleve-year-old boy who is dreading taking the reigns of his kingdom (although he's quite happy with the queen he's gonna have).
> 
> Still no sign of Prince Migual and I have no idea what King Manual was like so I'm basically guessing with his personality.
> 
> As for the Tudors: Katherine, why would you tempt fate like that? But at least she and Arthur have soon-to-be four children.
> 
> Speaking of bed reps, King Henry and his mother have bad reps too. I hope the scene between King Henry and Arthur was sweet and I will be keeping Margaret around a little longer than history so I can defrost her just a tad.
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please be sure to read and review. I want your comments, questions, criticisms and compliments. I live off of feedback.


	3. Of Fathers and Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some parent-child relationships are better than others. Arthur and Katherine continue to raise their growing family. King Henry has a serious talk with his younger sons while Queen Elizabeth does the same with their younger daughters. King Charles of France puts his foot down and yells at his stepfather. King John of Spain does something he will forever regret. Prince Miguel finally appears and is a precious child. Then the Tudors say goodbye to one of their own.

_**May 1 1505** _

"Father is never going to let me hear the end of this, is he?" Prince Arthur questioned rhetorically, as the physician examined his face and made sure the bandage over his forehead was secured.

"It could have been worse, Your Highness, you could have lost an eye," Dr. Linacre pointed out. The visor had protected Arthur's face for the most part but he had still received a rather nasty cut on his forehead that had caused some blood to trickle down his face. "Perhaps you should consider staying out of the jousting field for just a little while."

"So you agree with my father then," Arthur said warily. He threw the physician a disgruntled look as he accepted the wet washcloth to clean the now dried blood off of his face, being careful not to knock his bandage out of place as he did so.

"He is my king," Dr. Linacre replied loyally, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Off with you then, go make your report, you traitorous knave," Arthur jested, smirking slightly. Although he knew that he would get an earful from his father, he could not fault the doctor for doing his job.

"Your Highness," Linacre bowed politely before backing out of the tent, leaving Arthur's attendants to take off his armor and put on his regular outfit.

Once he was presentable, Arthur strode out of his tent where he saw Norris waiting outside. The other man looked terribly guilty and the Prince of Wales knew what he was about to do before he even opened his mouth.

"Sir Norris, you defeated me fair and square and I won't hear of your forfeiting your victory," Arthur told him firmly before the man could speak. "I was being far too overconfident and I believe I needed a dose of reality that your lance was kind enough to provide."

"Your Highness flatters me but I cannot in good conscious accept my winnings when I have injured you," Henry Norris said politely and meekly.

"Why don't we meet in the middle, you take the money and I'll take the kiss from the Princess of Wales," Arthur suggested.

"I think I can live with that," Norris agreed somewhat reluctantly. "Perhaps I will donate my winnings to the poor."

"And excellent idea. Now I should return to my wife so I may collect my own prize."

* * *

 

After exchanging polite goodbyes with Norris, Arthur went back into Ludlow, knowing that Katherine would be waiting for him in her apartments. When he had regained conscious, the royal physician had informed him that upon realizing that he was hurt, the Princess of Wales had gotten so upset, that she had a near miscarriage and had to be brought to her apartments so she could rest.

Arthur was relieved to see that his wife looked healthy and calm when he entered her chambers. He would have never forgiven himself if his foolishness had cost them their unborn baby.

"Cat, thank goodness you are all right, I was worried for you," the Prince remarked as he sat down next to her. Her ladies quickly moved their sewing to another room to give them some privacy.

"You were worried about me? I was so terrified when I saw you fall off your horse!" Katherine exclaimed, embracing her husband and gently touching the bandage that covered his forehead.

"I'm fine, dearest, you don't have to worry about me," Arthur assured her gently before adding rather irritated. "I'm sure Father will send a letter outlining just how dangerous my actions were and in order to avoid a second scolding, I shall stay out of the jousting contests for a while."

Katherine raised an eyebrow, skeptical that avoiding a scolding from his father was the true reason why Arthur was vowing not to joust again especially considering that as he spoke his hand was caressing her belly.

"Well I think he just worries for you, after all, William is only three and everyone knows your father is not in the best of health," Katherine whispered, feeling uneasy discussing the King like that as her words were slightly treasonous.

"That is a good point. I actually never thought of it that way," Arthur said with a shudder. Although he was such that his father would make sure that the Lord Protector was nothing like his mother's uncle, King Richard III, it was still a disturbing thought, leaving his three-year-old son to become another boy ruler. "All I was thinking about was showing off for you."

"Why would you even need to do that? You have already won my heart a thousand times over," Katherine assured him, kissing his lips sweetly. Her eyes danced mischievously as she continued: "English pride, I suppose."

"I suppose you may have a point," Arthur agreed with a sheepish smile. After all, while Spanish pride (or if people were being malicious: Spanish arrogance) was well known, it would be hypocrisy not to admit that men and women of other countries did suffer from the same sin from time to time. "As you are more level-headed than I am, do you think I should send a letter to my father, apologizing for my foolishness or should I just wait for the inevitable scolding he will send me."

"Well I have a feeling that King Henry will be less than impressed by the fact that you are apologizing for something he told you not to do in the first place so I would include perhaps either a oath that you will not repeat your error or offer something that show him that you truly regret your actions," Katherine suggested.

"I will discuss with my advisors if we can spare a quarter of wheat in our granaries to send to the King," Arthur said thoughtfully. "That should appease whatever disappointment he feels. My love, what would I do without you?"

"You would be fine, Arthur," Katherine assured him. "But I'm glad I'm here with you anyway." He kissed her softly and they sat together, knowing full well that today could have gone much worse than it had.

* * *

 

**_June 14 1505_ **

"No," the king said coldly, glaring at the man in front of him. "Absolutely not."

"But Your Majesty-" the French ambassador began.

"Your master wants me to increase my daughter's dowry and yet he will not do the same for Lady Margaret. The only reason I have not requested Princess Elizabeth's dowry to be the same size as my son's intended bride is because Princess Elizabeth is to become queen while the Lady Margaret will be the Duchess of York," Henry snapped. In a perfect world, a double wedding would mean that neither monarch would have to cough up a single shilling for a dowry as the ladies would be the same price.

"His Grace, the Duke of Orléans needs help against the Holy Roman Emperor and he hoped that you would-"

Once again King Henry cut the man off. "And His Grace thought he could use my children as a way to get my help in this squabble over territories between him and the Holy Roman Emperor," the monarch snarled, a look of disgust convoluted his face. "You can tell your royal master that I will have no part in this fight of his and if he wants my daughter as his stepson's queen than he shall accept the dowry agreed upon and not a shilling more." He then waved his hand, deciding that the meeting was over.

The French ambassador's shoulders sagged in defeat and he did not try to speak again as he knew it would be hopeless. He only bowed before backing out of the room.

King Henry shook his head in annoyance, war was a costly endeavor and it irked him that they thought to use English coffers in such a way. He knew that refusing to increase his daughter's dowry could very well cause Louis to retaliate by marrying his stepson to another princess but that would not change his mind. Elizabeth was young and there were plenty of princes of Europe he could marry her off to.

"The Spanish Ambassador, Doctor De Puebla is here to see you, Your Majesty," a herald told him. The monarch nodded for him to let the man in.

"Your Excellency, it is good to see you again," King Henry greeted him with absolutely no warmth behind his polite words.

"It is wonderful to have returned to the English court. May I extend my congratulations to the Prince and Princess of Wales for their good fortune?" he requested, wanting to go to Ludlow so he could pass on his master's continued support of his sister and to give her some very upsetting news.

The old king grimaced momentarily, remembering the incident that had happened a month ago. Luckily Arthur had not been killed and the boy Princess Katherine was carrying had not been lost. Henry had been pleasantly surprised when he had received a letter from his son, before he could even compose his scathing reprimand, which offered an apology for disobeying, an oath that he would not repeat his mistake and an offering of a quarter of the grain that was amassed in Wales.

"Granted. Tell me how are things in Spain?" King Henry inquired wondering if the nonsense between King Ferdinand and his son was over yet.

The slight frown on Spanish Ambassador's face spoke volumes. "It is almost over. King John has convinced nearly all of his father's allies to switch sides and yet King Ferdinand will not yield and he has attempted to flee to Portugal in hopes of gaining his son-in-law's aide," De Puebla explained. "King John has declared his father a traitor and intends to prosecute him as such."

If it weren't for the years of controlling his emotions, King Henry would have gasped. There had been a few rare instances of family turning on each other but for a son to turn on his father to the point where he was willing to publicly label him a traitor and perhaps even call for his execution was unheard of.

"I would suggest telling my son first," Henry said gently, guessing that the ambassador felt that it was his duty to inform the Princess of Wales of what has occurred in her home country. "He might be able to break the news gently to her."

* * *

 

After his meeting with the Spanish Ambassador was concluded, King Henry made an impromptu decision to visit his children at Eltham, inviting his wife to come with him.

While Elizabeth fussed over her two remaining daughters, Henry invited his two sons to walk in the garden with him.

"Spain is going through dark times, my boys," Henry began as he sat down on the bench his sons on either side of him. "King John has decreed that his father has committed treason against Spain. Do you know what the punishment for treason is?"

"Death," Prince Henry replied automatically before looking aghast. "He's going to kill his own father."

"Did his father commit treason?" Edmund asked curiously, not quite understanding the concept of death or why his brother looked so horrified.

"In a sense," King Henry said grudgingly. Even if turning against one's father was contrary to what the bible taught them, he could understand from a legal standpoint that King Ferdinand had ignored an official royal degree and essentially deprived his son of all he was supposed to gain. "But that is not the point. What matters is that King John was willing to tear his country apart for what he believed was his just as your ancestors did to England."

"You mean the War of Roses," Prince Henry guessed, catching on to what his father was talking about.

"I see that your tutors were not exaggerating when they said you had been doing well in your studies," his father complimented him, giving him a proud smile as a reward. "Yes. You see your mother's grandfather, the Duke of York, felt his nephew was unfit to rule and a war started because of it. It was an endless war of sons fighting their cousins for the crown. Something I do not want to repeat."

"But if King Henry the Sixth was truly mad, wasn't it the Duke of York's duty to save his kingdom from him?" Prince Henry questioned, sounding a little confused. After all, his father had admitted that King Ferdinand had technically committed treason and he knew that his sister's husband, the King of Scots had disposed of his unpopular father to become the ruler of Scotland.

Although he couldn't say for sure, King Henry had long suspected that the War of the Roses had started because it seemed like the Duke of York would be his brother's heir for a long time. But when King Henry the Sixth had regained his mental state and had a son of his own, the Duke of York was unwilling to give up his position of power. However, Henry would not insult his beautiful wife by claiming that it was her side of the family who were solely to blame for the bloodshed that followed.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," the greying man replied. "However it's important to note that no matter who had good intentions, it still led to a cycle of violence that took fifty-years to end. I do not want history to repeat itself and that's why I want the two of you to become members of the clergy. I will not demand you do so but I ask that you consider it."

Before Prince Henry could speak, his six-year-old brother crawled onto their father's lap and asked: "Would it make you happy, Papa?"

King Henry stared at his youngest child, startled by the strangeness and the bluntness of his question. "I believe it would," he replied.

"Then I'll do it," Edmund told him seriously.

The monarch felt uncharacteristically warm and embraced Edmund tightly. He looked over at the Duke of York and noted that he looked rather guilty and shame-faced.

"It's all right, Harry, I trust that you will be loyal to your brother and that is why I will not force you," he said reassuringly to his second son, putting his arm around the fourteen-year-old.

"Thank you, Father," Prince Henry said gratefully. He would always do the best for England even if it was as his brother's second-in-command.

* * *

 

While her husband spoke to her sons- about what she didn't know- Queen Elizabeth of York told her daughters of what had happened during King Henry's meeting with the French Ambassador.

"At this rate, Mary will be Queen of Portugal before I even set foot in France if I ever do," Princess Elizabeth grumbled, making a face her mother had often seen on Harry's face. "Why must Father be such a miser?"

"Elizabeth, you should not say such things about your father!" her mother admonished her, shocked by her daughter's boldness.

"Well it's true. Everyone knows how Father can be about money," Elizabeth snapped. "He forces his people to pay high taxes but he uses barely any of it."

"You must learn how to control your tongue or no king will want you as their queen," Queen Elizabeth said firmly, giving her daughter an angry look.

"Should I be like you, Mother? Should I not fight for what is mine and just let someone with less royal blood take it from me?" Elizabeth demanded, before slamming her hands over mouth, just realizing the weight of her words.

Elizabeth of York had never in her life been so furious, she looked as though she wanted to slap her daughter across the face.

"How dare you speak of your father in such an insulting way. He fought a bloody battle for the crown and worked hard to end the civil war that ravaged our country!" she hissed. "He wants the best future for not only his children but England as well."

Besides Elizabeth of York was certain that if she had declared herself queen after her brothers' death, she would have been disposed of in seconds or at the very least married off to her uncle or whatever cousin was hoping to be king. If women were always pawns in politics, Elizabeth often felt that she was the biggest pawn of them all; in fact, as the eldest daughter of King Edward of York, everyone was eager to use her.

Even though he loved her and she loved him, Elizabeth knew that her own husband had used her to end the war. Even with two men pretending to be her dead brother and the de la Poles still causing trouble, it had worked out for the most part. Their marriage had even produced eight children even if God had chosen to call two of them back to Heaven hours after their birth.

"I'm sorry, Mama, I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it. I was just frustrated," Princess Elizabeth apologized softly.

Her mother tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling sympathetically at her, silently forgiving her for her harsh words.

"Mama, do I really have to go to Portugal next years?" Mary asked, deciding now that the fight was over she could ask what had been troubling her since Lily had brought up her upcoming queenship.

Margaret had gone to Scotland at fifteen and Elizabeth would…well would have gone to France at fourteen so it seemed unfair that she had to leave England when she was only ten-years-old.

"I'm afraid so, sweetheart, Prince Miguel is eager to meet with you and this way you get to know your future family early," Queen Elizabeth explained.

"But I don't want to leave England," Mary complained. It terrified her that she would never get to see her family again and would be forced to live with strangers. "Besides what if Prince Miguel and his family don't like me."

"Mary, I'm certain Katherine felt the same way you did when she left Spain. But we liked her, didn't we?" Princess Elizabeth pointed out.

"Well she was wonderful," Mary said. To her Katherine was like a third big sister.

"And considering Prince Miguel and his siblings are related to Katherine, I'm sure that you will get along with them just fine," Queen Elizabeth assured her daughter.

Mary wasn't so convinced.

"But why do I have to marry someone I've never met?" she asked, feeling that the loving marriage between Katherine and Arthur was probably the exception and not the rule when it came to arranged marriages.

"Because that is the duty of royalty, my dear heart," Queen Elizabeth told her softly, placing a hand under her youngest's daughter's face and lifting it. "We must do what's best for our family and country by marrying for politics. Besides you never know, you and Miguel might fall in love."

"Who knows, he could be as handsome as Charles Brandon," Princess Elizabeth teased.

"Lily, stop that!" Mary exclaimed in embarrassment, turning red.

Elizabeth of York's eyebrow rose at the mention of Harry's companion. She shook her head, realizing that it wasn't a matter of great concern if her daughter had a crush on the older boy. She would be in Portugal soon enough.

That thought of losing her daughter in less than a year did make Elizabeth's heart ache a little. Although she would be pleased if all three of her daughters became queens, there was a selfish part of her that wished that she could keep them in England.

* * *

 

_**June 15 1505** _

Katherine was not fond of Doctor De Puebla as she viewed him as a charlatan and a knave. She never quite understood why her brother was fond of him or why her parents had sent him as the Spanish Ambassador to England. However, she knew that he worked hard to procure the marriage between her and Arthur, something she grudgingly thanked him for. She also knew that he was not happy to giving her such unpleasant news especially in her condition. Unfortunately for him, he had not been able to secure a meeting with her husband alone and since the Princess of Wales did not wish to retire when she knew his news had to do with Spain's civil war, he was forced to tell her what had occurred.

"Your brother sends his love and affection, Your Highness," he recited. "And he is sorry to have put you in the middle of his dispute with your father."

"I am aware of my brother's sentiments so please get on with it," Katherine snapped, feeling irritated at the man's sorry attempt at stalling. Arthur rested his hand on hers, entwining their fingers, hoping to soothe her.

"Your father was caught trying to flee to Portugal, in hopes to seek military aide. King John has declared that he is to be tried as a traitor to the crown of Spain," De Puebla explained, swallowing hard.

Arthur's thumb began to rub circles on Katherine's hand, looking as though he wanted to send for a physician immediately.

"And when shall the trial be?" Katherine inquired, her voice was deceptively calm. Inside she felt a jumble of emotions that were threatening to surface. Fear for her father. Anger towards her brother. Anguish for her fractured-no her broken family. But she couldn't let herself be overcome by her emotions. She had to be strong and not just for the babe she carried inside of her.

"Sometime in October, Your Highness," the Spanish Ambassador replied.

Katherine closed her eyes and shakily inhaled. Was it a good thing or a bad thing that her brother was waiting five months before he tried their father for treason?

On one hand, it was possible that John was simply trying to make a strong statement and perhaps he would publicly pardon their father after those five months. Or he could be waiting because he wanted to cement his power as King of both Castile and Aragon before he tried and condemned his flesh and blood.

No. Katherine refused to believe that her brother was that callous. He was just making a statement that was all and in October instead of dragging their father to trial, he would publicly pardon him of all charges before letting Ferdinand retire in Aragon. That had to be what he was doing.

The Princess of Wales was unaware that her husband had dismissed the Spanish Ambassador and that they were now alone in his audience chamber. It wasn't until he got up from his seat and kneeled down before her throne.

"What can I do for you? How can I make you smile?" he inquired, keeping his tone light as if there was no reason for his chivalrous actions.

"It will be fine, Arthur. John won't kill our father, he would never do such a thing," Katherine murmured, tears in her eyes as she tried to banish the nagging voice in her head that challenged her words.

Arthur said nothing, he only kissed her hands, keeping his eyes downcast so she would not see the doubt in them.

* * *

 

**_December 30 1505_ **

The Princess of Wales often imagined how her father had acted when he was being tried for treason. Had he thrown a fit and continued to insist that there was no court in the realm that was high enough to try a king? Even with John stripping his titles, Katherine doubted her proud father would have accepted being tried by a jury of men who were of lower birth than he.

How had he reacted when they declared him guilty and told him that he was to be killed by the King of Spain's, his own son, pleasure? Had he shown remorse for not abdicating as he had sworn to do so many years ago? Had he condemned John as an ungrateful, ungodly brat- an unnatural son who was unfit to be king?

She was sure that both King Henry and her husband had knowledge of what had transpired during the trial of the old king of Spain thanks to the English Ambassador who was a witness to the event. However, she would not ask them to tell her and thankfully they would not tell her what exactly happened.

Hearing that her father had been declared guilty was bad enough. In fact, once she received news of the outcome of her father's trial, she had gone into labor early. Luckily the newest Princess Isabella was born healthy and her birth had softened the blow of learning just how far her father had fallen. She even still held hope that her brother would spare father from death if not a lifetime of imprisonment.

Soon it was Christmastide and Arthur and Katherine were allowed to remain in Ludlow to celebrate.

"My good Lords and Ladies, I would like to raise a toast to my lovely wife who has become a mother of four children all before she had even turned twenty. She has made me the happiest man in the world," Arthur proclaimed. "To the Princess of Wales."

"Hear. Hear."

They all toasted to her before returning to her meal. Arthur leaned close to his wife, whispering so no one could hear him.

"Do you think we can slip out of here without being noticed?" he asked. "I would prefer to just retire to your bedchambers instead of going through the whole gift giving process." It wasn't that he didn't want gifts but he knew that some of the lords who sent them gifts were competing with each other and it was rather tedious to make sure that he reacted to each present with the same expression.

"Even if we could slip out unnoticed, something I doubt we could accomplish, I have a feeling that they will fear that we have been abducted by witches if we disappear so suddenly," Katherine teased him.

Arthur opened his mouth to say something when a herald came up to him to inform him that a messenger was desperate to speak to him. At once the Prince of Wales got up, promising Katherine that he would be back momentarily and to take over hosting the festivities  while he was gone.

* * *

 

He didn't come back and Katherine spent the rest of the evening preforming her husband's tasks such as receiving the peasants, the nobility, ambassadors, royal family and Ludlow's small court had given them.

As Katherine returned to her apartments, her thoughts raced as she wondered what was going on.

Had King Henry died? Or was a member of Arthur's family sick? After all whatever the news had been, it was clearly not something that could be held off until Christmastide was over. Oh God, what if…?

"Your Highness?" Maria De Salinas questioned, her brow furrowed in confusion as her mistress suddenly stopped walking.

"I wish to go to nursery," she said firmly, needing to check on her children just in case something had happened to them. Besides something told her that she would find her missing husband there.

Her ladies followed her to the children's nursery. It was nearly midnight so they were all asleep. She walked through the playroom and peered into the room where her children were currently sleeping. Because William, John and Katherine were under the age of five, they shared one room and their mother could see that they were fast asleep in their beds. She went over to each of them and planted a kiss on her head.

When the Princess of Wales arrived at the room where her youngest daughter's crib was, she was not surprised to see her husband in a chair, rocking Isabella back and forth, he seemed to have fallen asleep himself. Katherine gently picked her two-month-old daughter up, kissed her dowdy forehead before putting her back in her crib.

Arthur immediately woke up when he realized his daughter had been taken from him but relaxed once he saw his wife. Not wanting to wake their children, Arthur and Katherine walked out of the nursery, deciding to use an empty room so they could talk in private.

"What happened?" Katherine inquired.

"I think it would be best in we sat down, Catalina," Arthur said gently, his expression doleful and the dread inside of his wife intensified.

"I am not a child, Arthur, I can take it," Katherine told him firmly, stubbornly standing even when her husband sat down on a chair.

"Please sit, for me," Arthur implored, taking one of her hands in his, looking at her pleadingly.

Katherine sighed and sat down next to him, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"Father just received word that your brother has decreed that your father will be executed in January," Arthur explained, a trace of disdain in his words.

He had purposely avoided the celebrations not wanting to mar them with this horrible news. He wasn't sure when King John had made this decree but he couldn't help but think Katherine's brother could have waited until at least Christmastide was over before he pronounced his father's sentence which was bad enough on its own.

At first, Katherine did not react, she simply could not believe that this was possible. She had hoped and prayed that her brother would not kill their own father. After all what kind of son would do such a thing?

However, Arthur would not lie to her and that meant her worst nightmare was coming true.

That was Katherine's last thought before she fell onto the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

 

_**January 23 1506** _

_**Spain** _

"Maria had a miscarriage. She blames me," Juan remarked as he threw his sister's letter into the fire. "She, Juana and Catalina all hate me."

"No they don't," Margarita said, soothingly. "They just don't understand why you have to do this."

"What is so hard for them to understand?" Juan demanded as he stomped around the bedchamber. "Father and Mother agreed to abdicate so I could be the King of Spain when one of them died. Father chose to ignore the laws of this land and held on to his crown, breaking his word. Then he refused to step down when I got his people to actually listen to me and even attempted to seek foreign aid to dispose of me. And then, instead of admitting to what he had down so I could forgive him, he proceeded to defend his actions throughout his imprisonment forcing me to sign his death warrant least he tries to raise another army against his own son."

"They weren't here. They don't see how hard all of this is for you," the Spanish queen stated. She wondered if she should try to convince Juan that it was not too late to pardon his father. But she knew deep down that it was.

"So they think I am a monster," Juan sneered with a trace of hurt in his voice. To think that he had fallen in so low in his younger sister's esteem was disheartening to say the least.

"It may take some time but I'm sure that eventually they will realize that you did what you thought was best and you would not have done so unless you had no choice," Margarita assured him softly.

The whole world could turn against her husband but she never would. She would stand by him no matter what.

Juan suddenly collapsed into a crumpled heap on the floor, tears flowing down his cheeks. His wife ran to him, kneeling down at his side and wrapping her arms around him.

"Oh God, I blamed him for Isabel's death and now I have killed him in the same month that she died," he sobbed. "I was angry at him but I never wanted him dead."

"I know, my love, I know," Margarita whispered, embracing him as he curled up into a fetus position.

"What have I done? I killed my own father!" Juan cried hysterically.

It wouldn't be until later, did Margarita find at that at the exact time that her husband was having a meltdown, King Ferdinando's head was being cut off.

While she held her husband, she just prayed that history would not repeat itself and that in twenty years, Alfonso would not be going through the same thing. God help her if she had to chose between her husband and her son.

* * *

 

_**February 8 1506** _

_**Portugal** _

Queen Maria was still recovering from her miscarriage. The news of her father's death had not helped but she was a strong woman and the doctor assumed him that she would be churched in no time.

It was so frustrating that some babies born two or three months early, were born perfectly but for some reason Infante Louis was not able to cling onto his life and therefore died a few hours after he was born.

"Papa, is it okay that I told João that our baby brother went to heaven to be with God and Mama?" Miguel questioned, looking rather ashamed.

"It depends on how you told him," Manuel said, picking the eight-year-old boy up so he could sit on his lap. Dear God, his little infante was growing like a weed. He smiled lovingly at his older son who he knew was a good big brother to all of his half-siblings, something he hoped would continue when Miguel became King of Portugal.

"Well he was asking me why we couldn't go see our new brother so I told him that God had taken him to be with the angels and my mama," Miguel replied. "Dona Filipa said he was too young for that sort of talk."

King Manuel frowned slightly, although he doubted his son's governess would be too hard on him, he still thought that she shouldn't be making him feel bad for trying to answer João' question.

"You did well, Miguel. While it's true that João probably is too young, it was still good of you to try and help him understand what happened to his new brother," Manuel explained.

"Is Auntie Maria gonna die too?" Miguel questioned. While he normally would just call Maria Mama, he knew for this talk he would have to be clear who he was talking about. "Like Mama died when she gave birth to me?"

"Who told you that?" Manuel asked, suddenly angry that someone had let it slip to the young prince of how his mother died. The last thing he wanted to happen was for Miguel to believe that he was at fault.

"I don't remember," Miguel replied a little too quickly.

Manuel sighed, deciding to let the issue go so long as his son was not blaming himself for something he had no control over.

"It will be all right, my boy, your stepmother will heal in time. In fact, why don't we go visit her right now. I'm sure that a visit from you will cheer her up," he suggested, setting Miguel down before getting up from his throne.

The people in the corridors between the King's chambers and the Queen's apartments were told to make way while King Manual held his son's hand in his as they made their way past the bowing courtiers.

* * *

 

_**March 31 1506** _

_**France** _

"I will have no queen but Elisabeth Tudor!" Charles declared. He had just turned thirteen, he was barely a teenager and yet he looked much older especially now when he was glaring at the men sitting around the council table.

He was outraged that they were suggesting searching for another bride, one whose father was willing to give them the dowry they asked for.

"Charles, my son-" Louis began.

"YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!" the king roared. "I AM YOUR KING SO YOU SHOULD ADDRESS ME AS YOUR MAJESTY!"

Louis stared at his stepson in shock. The boy had never spoken to him like that and never had shown a hint of temper.

"Your Majesty," Anne spoke up from her husband's side, not frightened by her son's demeanor in the slightest. "Your stepfather has been fighting for your right as King of Naples and Duke of Milan and in order to do so we need money. However, I can assure you that this is merely a ploy in hopes to encourage the English King to increase his dowry."

After all, everyone knew that the ambitious English King wanted all of his daughters to be queens. Perhaps if he thought that his middle daughter would lose her chance at the crown of France, he might decide to reconsider his frugal ways.

"And what if that backfires?" Charles challenged, lowering his voice. "What if King Henri feels slighted that we are looking elsewhere and chose to find both his daughter and son's spouses elsewhere? Worse what if he is so insulted he chooses to team up with the Holy Roman Emperor and Spain against us."

The men of the council looked rather uneasy when he mentioned Spain and Charles couldn't help but wonder if his stepfather feared that he would raise an army against him.

François had actually teased the boy king about it earlier, jesting that if putting his foot down about his bride did not change their minds, he could always do what Jean of Spain had done and declare his stepfather/cousin a traitor. Even if it had gotten to that point, Charles had no intention of taking the reins of statecraft from those who were older and wiser than he was.

"I suppose you may have a point," the Duke of Orléans admitted, keeping his tone bland as if it wasn't humiliating to be called out by a thirteen-year-old boy who happened to be his stepson even if he was the ruler of France. "But the fact remains that we need a bigger dowry especially when we will be supplying a dowry for your cousin Marguerite's marriage to the Duke of York."

If Charles had not been aware that this was a very unkingly thing to do, he might have rolled his eyes.

"Haggle if you must, cousin, but I will not have any other wife besides Princess Elisabeth," Charles said firmly before spinning on his heel and leaving the room as abruptly as he had entered.

"By God, he is really is a king in a boy's body," someone quipped.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Louis inquired, although he was hurt by his beloved stepson's coldness, he could not help but feel proud of the young boy. He just hoped that the English princess would not be a bad influence considering how she had Charles wrapped around her fingers without even meeting him.

* * *

 

"Well? How did it go?" the eleven-year-old Count of Angoulême inquired once Charles had returned to their playroom. He tossed the king a wooden sword without even questioning whether or not Charles wanted to play with him.

"I am convinced that my councilors especially my stepfather fear that I am a Jean of Spain in the making," his royal cousin replied as he thrust his fake sword at François only for him to block it with his own.

"Then they are worried for nothing," François remarked as he twirled around, enjoying being flashy as he thrust his wooden sword about. "Surely the Duke of Orléans has not gone paranoid in his old age even if he has gotten fat."

"Watch your tone, François, you should not disrespect your elders in such a way," Charles scolded him, as he managed to trip his cousin and stuck his sword to his cousin's throat. "Do you yield?"

François' eyes twinkled mischievously before he knocked the sword out of his cousins' hands and scrambled to his feet. "Not while I still have my weapon in my hands," he laughed. "Oh and Charles, I could hear your delightfully loud bellowing from here. How is it that you are allowed to disrespect Louis but I am cannot?"

"Isn't it obvious? I am his king. And to be fair, I would never call him fat… out loud," Charles replied with a smirk as the two boys continued the mock duel.

* * *

 

_**April 19 1506** _

_**England** _

The Princess of Wales was decked from head to toe in black. Lady Margaret Beaufort was surprised that she even bothered to attend seeing Princess Mary off to Portugal since she had spent the last three months locked up in her apartments, moping over her father's death.

"Poor child," Elizabeth said as she watched her son whisper a few words of comfort into Katherine's ears.

"She needs to get over herself. Her mother did the same to her niece and I doubt anyone cried then," Margaret sneered, snorting derisively.

"Margaret, for goodness sake, have a heart. Her father was executed like he was nothing more than a common criminal," Elizabeth pointed out.

The Countess of Richmond and Derby smirked at her daughter-in-law. "Are you planning on saying that to the Spanish Ambassador? I'm sure the King of Spain won't find your disapproval insulting," she laughed, knowing that Elizabeth would rather cut out her tongue than say something so controversial.

"That's not what I meant," Elizabeth protested. "I just think that you should be a little more sympathetic towards Katherine."

"Why? She's not the one who had to kill her own father nor is she the one who died," Margaret shot back.

"All right that is enough out of both of you," Henry commanded before the discussion could start back up again. "We are here to say goodbye to Mary. Not to make judgments about things that don't concern us."

His wife and mother nodded and were quiet as Arthur and Katherine came to a stop in front of the ship that would carry Princess Mary to her new home.

* * *

 

Minutes later Henry, Elizabeth, Edmund and Mary's carriage arrived. Katherine could see that Mary's eyes were red and swollen and she felt such a rush of kinship with the girl who was being sent away from everything she knew to live with strangers.

She waited until the ten-year-old princess had hugged her grandmother, her parents and her siblings before she kneeled down to speak to her in Latin.

"Mary, do you know what my mother said to me when I left for Spain?" she asked the young girl who she viewed as a younger sister more than she had with Margaret and Elizabeth. Without waiting for an answer she pressed on: "She told me to be strong and that I was a princess of a great country. She told me that if I was faithful and steadfast, I would be an amazing queen. These things are true about you as well. I know from the bottom of my heart that you will go on to do wonderful things, my sweet sister. Be proud of who you are and never forget where you came from."

When Princess Mary got onto the boat, she looked more confidant and Katherine was sure that just as she had, those words would never be forgotten.

Isabella and Ferdinand might be dead but their legacy lived on through their children and grandchildren. Soon they would have great-grandchildren who would never forget the two monarchs who fought to unite Spain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big chapter, a lot has happened. Some foreshadowing for future chapters.
> 
> For all those who are not history bluffs but would be interested in knowing, King Ferdinand died in history ten years later than he did in my story and Queen Maria of Portugual's son who died a few hours after birth was actually pretty important but not so much for my story.
> 
> I wasn't sure if I should have kept the King Charles bit but I felt it added the whole father/son relationships that is this chapter's theme.
> 
> Now that we're finished with the Ferdinand drama (for now anyway), we will have a three year timeskip in the next chapter where a new king and queen will be crowned.
> 
> As always, I live on feedback. Corrections, comments, complaints, compliments and... can't think another words that would be alliterative. Just please be sure to review.


	4. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Henry dies and Arthur ascends the English throne with his wife and his children by his side. In private he reveals a secret ambition that could change Europe forever if it works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter to set the stage for what comes next.

__

_**July 21 1509** _

When King Henry fell ill in January, he immediately sent for the Prince of Wales sensing that his time was nearly up and his son would be England's next monarch before the year was out. He did not want his grandchildren to know that he was dying so he decreed that they should remain at Ludlow with their mother while Arthur took over his father's duties on the privy council.

Despite his failing health, he managed to live until July and on that fateful day, he summoned his mother, wife and four remaining children to his side.

As Prince Arthur stood at the end of his father's bed, he couldn't help but notice the symbolism of Elizabeth of York and Margaret Beaufort standing on either side of the dying king, holding his hands. The two women were the most important people in his father's life and the only ones who he had trusted completely.

His grandmother and mother were different as night and day. However, they were joined together by their love for the man who was now dying as it was the only thing they had in common. They came from opposite sides of the English civil war and they would have continued to be enemies if it weren't for him.

Arthur wondered if his mother and grandmother would remain on good terms once King Henry died. He flinched at that thought as his eyes fell on his pale father who was struggling to say his last words.

"Mother, you have given me so much," Henry croaked. "I cannot thank you enough for your continued support and faith in me."

"My boy, you were always destined for greatness with or without me," Lady Margaret told him sweetly, running her fingers through his grey hair. "I shall reunite with you in heaven soon."

"Let Arthur be his own king," Henry commanded sternly as though he thought the only reason his mother would not die the day after he did was so she could boss her grandson around. "Promise me that you will give him advice only when he asks for it and not for anything other reason. I know he will ask for it for he like me knows that you are one of the most cleverest women alive."

"I promise," Margaret said firmly, clutching her son's hand tightly. Even if it galled her to keep her tongue still while her foolish grandson did as his arrogant wife commanded, she would not break a promise to the only child she ever had. Parents should never have to outlive their children and it tore her up that she would be one of those unlucky mothers.

Henry nodded before turning to his wife. "Elizabeth, I have never been a poet and I have never wooed you with words or gifts as other have for their wives but I loved you for being the best of women and the best of the wives despite never being able to put my feelings into words. If you choose to marry after I am gone, I hope it will be a union for love instead of politics."

"Oh Henry, I shall never love anyone as much as I love you. I shall remain a widow until we are reunited," Queen Elizabeth of York swore, kissing her husband's hand and then his wrinkled lips.

"Edmund, my son," Henry called, prompting the prince's governess to push the ten-year-old boy forward despite the fear and sadness on his face. "Do you still want to become a bishop, my boy?"

"Yes, Father, I do," Edmund replied, a quiver in his voice as he was well aware that his father was dying.

"Then God willing, someday you will be the next English Pope, the leader of the church as your brother is the leader of England."

Edmund nodded, biting his lip to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. Arthur put a hand on his shoulder at the same time as Henry put his hand on their brother's other shoulder, both of them trying to comfort the younger boy.

"Elizabeth, my sweet daughter, I have been negligent where your wedding is concerned as I have with Henry's bride. I did not want to spend more coins than I had to when it came to your dowry especially when I know it will be wasted on wars. However, I know you will become the Queen of France in time and when you do, I know you shall do as well as your mother and namesake did," Henry whispered. "Keep faith, sweet girl. As much of an old miser that I am, I know that when King Charles becomes of age, he will do anything to have you as his wife."

"Oh Father, at least I got to be with you these last few years," Elizabeth gushed, smiling tearfully. She couldn't imagine what it must be like for her two sisters who would learn of their father's death through a messenger and would not get a chance to say their goodbyes to their beloved father.

King Henry's chuckle quickly became a series of hacking coughs. Once he had control over himself, he spoke again.

"Henry, I once told you that I trusted that you would be loyal to your brother and I still trust you. I only ask that you always put your country and your family first. Be a knight and an advisor," Henry rasped.

"Yes, Father, I will," Prince Henry promised, smiling slightly when Arthur used his free hand to pat him on the back.

"Arthur, my heir, my time is over and yours has just begun. Your mother and I named you after the King of Camelot because we knew that you would the king of a new age and I know you will be just as legendary as your namesake," Henry proclaimed. "Already you have done much more than most kings have before they were crowned. You have already secured your dynasty by siring two boys and you have diligently led your Wales council, never once shirking from your duty to the Welsh people. Now it is time to lead all of England into a golden world."

"I won't let you or England down, Father," Arthur declared.

Hours later, as the nobles and servants heard a proclamation that was soon echoed around the castle.

"The King is dead! Long live the King!"

* * *

_**July 22 1509** _

Was it heartless that only a day had passed since his father's death, but instead of mourning like his mother, sister and younger brothers were doing, Arthur was getting everything ready for his father's funeral, the double coronation and his children's move to Eltham?

"Your father would be the first person to tell you not to waste tears on him," his grandmother said firmly when he asked her if it would be more respectful to wait at least a few more days. Despite her words, Arthur noted that her eyes looked red and swollen and guessed that before she had come to see him, she had spent hours crying in the privacy of her room. "Besides it's not like you are naming councilors and handing out titles. You are planning for things that cannot be held off until later especially your father's funeral."

Arthur nodded in agreement. It would take weeks to make the preparations and even though it had not fully sunk in that now his father was dead, he was the King of England, he knew that it was up to him to do it.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Arthur continued discussing with his grandmother the plan for King Henry's funeral which would take place on the first of August.

"I will be Henry's chief mourner and the Duke of York will stand in as your proxy," Margaret recited from her son's will. "He wishes for your son to be sworn in as Prince of Wales on William's birthday."

"Is that because he thinks it's fitting or because he hopes to save money by having one celebration instead of two," Arthur jested, causing his grandmother to glare at him for making a joke at a time like this. "I'm sorry, Grandmother, I just can't believe he's truly gone. It doesn't feel real."

Margaret closed her eyes for a moment before focusing her steely gaze on Arthur. "We all wanted to believe he was immortal but he wasn't. It is now up to you to preserve his legacy. You are not a carefree boy any longer, hiding your nerves behind your humor. You are a monarch. It would be better for us all if you start acting like it instead of relying on your wife to keep your idealistic head out of the clouds."

Suddenly the new king felt a rush of anger, wondering if she would have said such things to Henry if he was the one becoming king after their father's death. While it was true that his joke was ill-timed and crass considering the circumstances, that did not give his grandmother the right to criticize him like that.

"I think that Katherine and my coronation should take place before we invest William with the title of Prince of Wales," Arthur said, deciding to swallow his anger for now. It wouldn't do for him to yell at a woman who had just lost her son, no matter how condescending and insolent she was being.

King Henry had made his last will a matter of months ago when he thought he was due to die in a matter of days. Considering he did not specify which birthday, they could wait until next year to do William's ceremony.

"I would suggest having your coronation in September, just before your birthday if you prefer to do so," Margaret told him in an even tone. She had believed that it would be better if Arthur was crowned in separate ceremony and then had another coronation for his wife, not wanting to give the Spanish girl another reason to believe that she was her husband's equal as her mother and her father were. Alas King Henry had thought two coronations were a waste of money and had decreed in his will that his son and daughter-in-law were to be crowned together.

"I have already sent for Katherine and my youngest children. I will go fetch William myself," Arthur said with a slight frown. Once his son turned six, he had been sent to Eltham so he could share his youngest uncle's tutors. "As his father, it is my duty to tell him of his grandfather's death." Although he was not quite seven, William understood the concept of death much better than his younger siblings did.

"You could just send a letter or wait for him to be brought to you instead of wasting precious time by going to Eltham yourself. For goodness sake, Arthur, your son has been coddled enough. What will you do if when he turns ten and he doesn't want to live without his parents at Ludlow, move the entire court to Wales?" Margaret sneered, rolling her eyes.

Now she was just be flat out disrespectful and rude. Before he had been willing to ignore her boldness as he had unwittingly provoked her. However, this time Arthur would not stand for such contempt from her. The time when he had been intimidated and cowed by his fearsome grandmother were over. He was a grown man who would be twenty-three soon enough.

Not to mention, as she had pointed out, he was the king now and kings did not back down.

"Thank you, my Lady Grandmother but I did not ask for your advice nor your opinion," Arthur said through gritted teeth. "If there is nothing else to discuss, I must ask that you leave me alone with my thoughts."

Although he did not turn his back or wave his hand, there was a clear note of dismissal in his voice.

Lady Margaret Beaufort looked insulted but with her dead son's words ringing in her ears, she did not argue. Instead she curtsied-far too shallowly- and backed away two paces before turning around and leaving Arthur alone in his apartments.

Soon Arthur would move into his father's apartments. Soon he would be crowned King. Soon he would have to deal with the problems of the realm his father had left him.

However, for now, he would send a letter to Katherine and take comfort in the fact that he would not have to shoulder the burden alone.

If Arthur had become king as an unmarried man, he could not think of another woman who he would have chosen as his queen aside from Katherine of Aragon who was the best of women and the best of wives.

* * *

No one at Eltham was expecting him. It was clear from the frantic face of his son's governess as she glanced about the room in fear that it was not clean enough. She and the rest of the servants were on their knees and they would not rise until Arthur bade them to do so.

"Has anyone told William the news?" Arthur inquired, deciding not to beat around the bush.

As his first grandson, King Henry had doted on William and before he fell ill, he had often visited Eltham to spend time with both Edmund and William. Arthur had no doubt his son would be crushed by his grandfather's death.

"I thought it would be best to tell him before he heard the news through gossip," Lady Howard explained, sounding worried that she had overstepped her bounds.

"Where is he?" Arthur asked, giving the woman a reassuring smile before frowning again. He doubted that William would be in the schoolroom a day after his grandfather's death. But then why would he not be with the rest of his household so he could greet his father?

"The little prince has refused to come out of his bedchamber," the governess replied, her eyes lowered. Something about her expression told Arthur that there was more to that than she wanted to tell.

Instead of forcing her to say more, Arthur went straight for his son's apartments. Prince William was a sensitive boy who often wore his emotions on his sleeve and so his father could guess how badly the news had affected him.

Arthur's heart clenched painfully he found his son curled in ball, crying into a pillow. The red-haired monarch said nothing; he simply embraced William, whispering soothing words in his ears.

"I don't ever want to be king," William muttered, once he had calmed down a little.

"What? Why not?" Arthur questioned bewildered by that strange statement.

"Because you were a prince until grandfather died which made you a king. I don't want to be king if that means you'll die," William told him gravely.

Arthur smiled sadly, as he used his handkerchief to clean the streaks off his son's face.

"It doesn't work like that, Will, but I swear to you that you don't have to worry about me. For I will be here for a very long time," Arthur began. Considering he had his son when he was a month shy of his sixteenth birthday, his son would probably be an adult and hopefully a father himself well before he became king, baring any accidents or illnesses. "Besides, your grandfather might be gone but he is here spirit, watching over us from heaven."

This seemed to cheer William up a little and quite honestly the idea that his father was watching over the Tudor family made Arthur feel a little better as well.

* * *

_**July 25 1509** _

Four days ago, her father-in-law passed away. Four days ago, her husband had automatically become King of England. Four days ago, the servants at Ludlow had stopped calling her Your Highness and were now calling her Your Majesty. And yet it wasn't until Arthur returned did anyone call her Queen Katherine. There was something romantic about her husband being the first to call her by her new title.

It had been wonderful when instead of summoning her and their four children to court, Arthur had chosen to ride to Ludlow-bringing William along with him.

Once Katherine walked down the stairs to greet her husband, he dropped to his knees and proclaimed: "All hail Queen Katherine of Aragon!"

His call was soon echoed by the ladies and lords of Ludlow who kneeled as well.

"My lord, please rise, you are my king," Katherine reminded him, beaming at his antics.

"Ah but am I not, King Arthur and Sir Lancelot in one?" Arthur questioned, rising to his feet and embracing her.

"That is true," Katherine agreed as she fussed over William much to his displeasure even though he smiled when she kissed his cheeks.

"Papa and Wilie!" Kathy exclaimed delightedly, running towards her brother with her twin only a few steps behind. Despite being two years younger, she tackled William to the ground much to her governess and mother's horror.

"Katherine, Princesses do not behave in such a manner," her mother admonished her. Unfortunately, John joined the pile and the queen's words were drowned out by the three siblings' excited chatter.

Princess Isabella either wanted to head her mother's rebuke or decided that because her siblings were otherwise occupied, she could have their father all to herself and that's why instead of greeting William she made a beeline to Arthur, her arms outstretched, giggling as he scooped her up in his arms.

"My sweet Issy, my joy, how I have missed you," Arthur laughed, swinging her around before putting her back down so he and William could switch. While William hugged Isabella, Arthur embraced the twins. "My goodness, John, you are becoming as tall as Will. And dear Kathy, my rose, you have the heart of a warrior and I'm sure you are just as strong."

"Arthur, don't encourage her," Katherine said, slightly scandalized. The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to start acting even more unladylike.

"I believe that there is another member of this household that I must see," Arthur remarked a look of sadness on his face. "I would like to meet my mayday princess."

Princess Margaret had been born on the first of May while her father was at court, making her the first of the siblings whose birth Arthur had missed. Another sad thing was that she along with her cousin, James, of Scots would never get to meet her grandfather.

The family moved into a sitting room where Princess Margaret's nursemaid brought her to them.

Arthur and William were most excited to meet the newest addition and the king practically beamed with joy once his newest daughter was put in his arms.

"Another Tudor Princess," Arthur murmured, kissing her head.

"Do you think she likes me?" William asked worriedly. After all, he had met his three younger siblings when they were first born and they had taken a liking to him instantly as he had to them but Margaret had never met him and he was half afraid that she would not like him.

"You're her big brother, why wouldn't she like you?" John asked with a laugh, playfully nudging him.

The prince didn't look convinced and he eyed the baby rather apprehensively as though he expected her to start crying the moment she felt his gaze on her.

"William, would you like to hold her?" Katherine asked, deciding that her son was big enough that he could hold a two-month-old baby without dropping her.

"I guess."

"Hold out your arms, son," Arthur commanded as his wife took Margaret and brought her over to William. "Be sure to support her head."

Katherine maneuvered Margaret into the correct position in William's arms, standing by just in case she needed to take her infant daughter back.

William grinned once Margaret started babbling happily. "Hi Margaret-"

"Maggie," Kathy interrupted, earning shush from her mother.

"Maggie," William amended, his smile never faltering. "I'm your big brother, that means that I'm gonna look out for you like Uncle Edmund said all big brothers do."

Arthur thought his heart might burst with love and pride as he watched his children crowd around the newest arrival.

* * *

_**September 17 1509** _

Never before in history since Edward I- almost three hundred years ago- had the son of an English King had an heir, a spare and a few princesses before they ascended their father's throne.

The people between Ludlow and London flocked to the roadsides so they could see the King, Queen and their children on their journey. They shouted out blessings and some even threw flowers at the two royal carriage as it passed.

But the people gathered then were nothing compared to the crowds which gathered on the streets on the King and Queen's coronation day. They lined the streets, cheering as loudly as they could once the new monarchs came into view. Arthur later jested that he had gone deaf with all the noise. He smiled and waved at his subjects with Katherine at his side, doing the same.

He surprised himself by not feeling nervous at all as the archbishop placed the crown and the holy oils on his head. Perhaps it was because of the woman at his side who was receiving her own crown.

The day after they were crowned, Arthur buried himself in statecraft, allowing only his wife to stay with him.

"Henry thinks simply banishing and fining Richard Empson and Edmund Dudley won't be enough for the common folk who have lost much of their money to those taxes. However, I have no plans to execute men who were simply doing my father's bidding," Arthur explained.

He had created the position of President of the Privy Council for his eighteen-year-old brother something he was sure Harry was pleased about.

"I would have liked to be there when you said that to the council," Katherine laughed, guessing that to her husband's advisors it sounded like he was calling his father a crook. "Perhaps the money you collect from Empson and Dudley can be donated to the poor. I'm sure that would make them happy."

"Already done, my dear, I am planning to use that money to create a poorhouse and a hospital," Arthur told her, affection in his eyes before continuing to read to her the notes from the last meeting of the privy council. "Barring Henry, there have been no changes of the councilors my father chose as I can find no fault with any of them. I have also decided that for my birthday, I would knight Griffith, Henry Norris and William Campton. I have also decided to return the Dukedom of Norfolk to Lord Thomas Howard."

"Even though he fought against your father and for King Richard," Katherine said, an eyebrow raised.

"I want men loyal to the crown and wrong as he was, the Earl of Surrey believed he was fighting against a usurper," Arthur pointed out.

"That is true but I think perhaps we should hold off on returning his dukedom for a few years just so we can be sure he is loyal to you as well as the crown," Katherine suggested. She adored Arthur's sense of honor but she believed it was more sensible to wait until the Earl proved him worthy of the new king's favor and trust.

"Always the pragmatic one, my love. All right, we shall hold off giving him his dukedom," Arthur agreed before grimacing. "Some of my councilors have been pressuring me to start looking for suitable spouses for our children. I have requested that they let us focus on the matter of Harry and Lily's marriages before moving on to our sons and daughters. That being said I am open to hearing your thoughts."

Part of Katherine would have liked to point out that their marriage had been arrange when they were still toddlers but she knew her husband was not eager to marrying off his children so quickly and there was a tiny side of her that agreed with him.

"Well I know my niece, Margarita, is due to marry the little crown prince of Hungry," Katherine recalled. "While Alfonso will be marrying Joanne's daughter Eleanor."

"So our daughters won't be queens of Hungry or Spain. Just to be clear I would rather cut my own limbs off then marry off our daughter to a king thirty years older than her," Arthur said coolly, thinking of the old king of Poland who was the only unmarried monarch in Europe aside from King Charles of France.

"Well at the very least will you consider a match between Kathy and Joanne's son Charles. He may very well be the Holy Roman Emperor one day," Katherine suggested, sounding pleased at the idea of her daughter being an empress.

"Well when he does become the Holy Roman Emperor, we can discuss then," Arthur teased, knowing full well that they would have to start negations long before then or risk him looking elsewhere. "And what of our sons? Any princesses that you have in mind for our boys."

It was easier for Arthur to discuss his sons' marriages as they would stay in England. He wasn't stupid; he would have to marry his daughters off to foreign powers eventually. But he would rather wait for a long time and not lose them as early as they had lost Mary to Portugal.

"Well I have a few thoughts," Katherine replied with a coy smile. "I was thinking an archduchess or an infanta of Portugal or Spain."

"So one of your nieces then. Perhaps for William but I think we should look elsewhere for John," Arthur decide, looking thoughtful. "In fact, we should make an alliance with the Holy Roman Emperor with both your nieces Eleanor and Isabella already engaged our best bet is with either Mary or Catherine of Austria."

"Either will do," Katherine said warmly, happy that she would one day call one of her nieces daughter.

"Speaking of the Holy Roman Emperor, he and the Pope seem eager to get me to join the League of Cambrai with His Holiness even telling me that he will declare me King of France if we manage to invade France," Arthur said with a grimace.

Henry had been thrilled and had told Arthur that the crown of France was theirs by right and they should claim it especially considering they had the Pope's blessing.

"But you will not as that would break our treaty with France," Katherine guessed.

As much as she would love it if her husband would join the Holy League that included her country against France, she was unwilling to jeopardize the future marriages of Princess Elizabeth or the Duke of York. Besides she knew unlike his brother, Arthur was not war hungry and it would take more than the Pope's backing to get him to invade France.

"If you ask me the Holy League should be more concerned with the Ottomans rather than France," Arthur said, glancing at the reports from Portugal where King Manual had recently been able to secure trade after defeating the Turks. "Do you know what I want to be remembered for?"

"What?" Katherine asked.

"Uniting Europe so we may reclaim the Holy Land," Arthur proclaimed.

"Since when have you wanted that?" Katherine questioned, her brow furrowed in confusion. Arthur had told her that he hoped to enrich England in both trade and exploration. He whispered in her ear how he hoped that their country could be known for scholars, poets and musicians. Never had he mentioned such a daring prospect that would take defeating an entire empire to do if the rulers of Europe could get along long enough to fight together.

"I don't know. When I learned of the Battle of Diu, I began looking into them. But I think that is another matter for another time. For now, I think we should look into gaining access to the Portuguese trading posts in the east," Arthur said with a smile. "Contrary to what most men think, there are other wars to expand a country than simply being a conquer."

"Well I'm sure King Manual would be more willing if John were to marry one of his daughters," Katherine suggested innocently, causing her husband to laugh.

"You are relentless, are you not?" he teased her.

"I only want the best for my boys," his wife replied a playful gleam in her eyes.

"My proud Spanish Queen," Arthur murmured affectionately, picking up her hand and kissing her fingers.

Maria of Austria and Beatrice of Portugal would make fine wives for his sons. He just hoped they would work out as well as his marriage to Katherine had.


	5. Intent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A double wedding, treasonous plots, the birth of a princess, the death of a queen and children bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History fact time: as some of you might be aware Anne Boleyn spent most of her girlhood in the Duchess of Savoy's court and it was because of her that she got such a good education. Unfortunately, there is a small problem because in my story the Duchess of Savoy's first husband King John of Spain is alive and well. And because the Duke of Savoy died in 1504 and I never gave him a different wife, there is no Duchess of Savoy to mentor Anne Boleyn. Luckily there is a certain Countess of Derby and Richmond who I kept alive for a few reasons including making sure the Boleyn siblings have a proper education.

_**April 24 1510** _

"The King is a mere child who is easily controlled by women," The Duke of Buckingham spat disgustedly. Thomas Boleyn nodded his head but said nothing, allowing the other man to continue his rant. "First he agrees to the increased dowry those pompous Frenchmen asked for in order to appease his mother and sister. Then he appoints his mother and grandmother as co-regents while he's off playing nice with the French. God knows he doesn't make a decision without getting his wife's opinion first. He is a weakling and mark my words, he will ruin England."

"Careful my lord, your words are almost treasonous," Thomas told him, keeping his tone carefully measured and his expression bland as if treason was just a trifle subject that caused him no concern. "I believe that His Majesty would have put one of his brothers as regent if the Duke of York wasn't coming with him and the Duke of Somerset wasn't too young. Besides, everyone knows that Queen Katherine wants to involve England in the League of Cambrai so I think we can safely say that while she may share her opinions with him, he does not let her make his decisions."

"For once I wish he had. What will the rest of Europe think of a country unwilling to take part in a glorious war?" Buckingham muttered. The fact that war was a costly endeavor of both men and money didn't seem to occur to the duke even though he had to be there when the king had cited that as his reason for not joining the Holy League to the privy council.

"Your Grace, I don't disagree that His Majesty has… made some errors in judgment but I fail to see how we could change his mind, after all he is our lord and master," Thomas pointed out, watching Stafford's expression carefully.

"He is a fool, Sir Thomas," Buckingham repeated himself, his expression dark. "I just pray he doesn't ruin all that his father has built."

The conversation ended there and Edward Stafford left to return to his chambers while Thomas stayed where he was, looking expectantly at a door that led to secret passageway.

"I suppose we should be pleased that all he is doing is insulting my grandson," Lady Margaret observed as she entered the room, nodding at Thomas' slight bow. "At least that's all he's doing for now."

"I think you have the right of it, Your Grace, after all the duke had no such complaints before His Majesty chose to name you and the dowager queen as regents," Thomas remarked grimly. "Who knows if the next small imagined slight he receives cause him to be a traitor just like his father was."

Thomas Boleyn had been shocked when Lady Margaret had approached him, an ambassador to the low countries who was only a knight, a man who should be beneath notice of a powerful lady. However, his low status might have been the reason she chose to seek him out in the first place.

The Duke of Buckingham would have no reason to suspect that brother-in-law of his childhood friend would be spying on him. Even though his dear wife Elizabeth was one of the Dowager Queen's favorite ladies and his three children were being educated by the former queen and Lady Margaret herself, Stafford would think that he was too beneath notice to be working for her.

"If he dares to commit treason against my grandson, we will be ready for him," the Countess of Derby hissed, her eyes narrowed.

Even if she thought that Queen Katherine had a little too much power over her grandson and that he was not as strong as his father, Margaret Beaufort would not let anyone overthrow the Tudor dynasty. Not after all she and her sweet boy had been through to take what had been rightfully his since he was born.

* * *

_**June 7 1510** _

At last they had finally reached the day King Charles had dreamt about for many years. The day he would meet his future Queen Elisabeth Tudor. They would meet in Calais on the Field of Gold for the double wedding that would bind the once feuding countries together.

The only sad thing about this day was his mother was unable to attend his wedding as she was big with child again and considering how she hadn't had a successful pregnancy since Claude, it was imperative that she did not travel so far.

However, the Duke of Orléans and the Count of Angoulême rode behind him as the small French court traveled to the English port. King Arthur and his entourage were waiting for them when they arrived.

"Well met, cousin," King Arthur greeted him as they stood in front over each other.

"Cousin," Charles echoed in heavily accented English.

"Before we enter the Val D'or, I have someone I'd like to introduce to you," Arthur told him with a smile as he beckoned a man and a woman to come forward. "May I introduce my brother Prince Henry of York and my sweet sister Princess Elizabeth Tudor?"

"Your Highnesses, I am pleased to meet you," Charles said even though his words were for both of them, he could not tear his eyes from his bride and when he took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingered for a few seconds longer than he needed to. He then led Marguerite over to her future husband. "I am sorry to lose a cousin but I hope you will make Marguerite as happy as I swear to make Elisabeth."

"I will indeed," Henry agreed, kissing Marguerite's hand as Charles did and even bowing to her. Then he spoke to her in French. "My lovely lady, if I were free to choose a wife, I would choose you in a heartbeat."

Marguerite smiled, a pink blush on her cheeks. Suddenly Charles wished he had said the same to Elisabeth, unfortunately stealing her brother's line would not impress the princess and it would only serve to make him look childish and foolish.

As if he could sense his counterpart's discomfort, King Arthur proclaimed that they should enter the site and begin the summit. The actual wedding would take place tomorrow but for tonight, they would celebrate the peace that would be bringing two their countries.

There were four thrones set up on the dais for even though Elisabeth was not yet Queen of France, Charles would not let her be seated anywhere else but by his side. Marguerite sat in between her brother and the Duke of York. A seating arrangement Charles began to regret once his cousin had a bit too much to drink.

"You see that, brother? In most things, we French excel you. We have the greatest painters the greatest musicians and the greatest poets: most of whom, by the way, live at my cousin's court de ma cie. The greatest philosophical minds, engineers, architects and of course, we have the most beautiful women. You won't deny that, will you? Even our wrestlers are better than yours," Francis boasted loud enough for everyone to hear even though his words where only meant for the Duke of York.

"Francis, that's enough," Marguerite commanded, wondering why her brother had to act like such a child on tonight of all nights.

"Are you sure?" Henry challenged Francis.

"What?"

"I said are you sure all French wrestlers are better than English wrestlers? Do you want to prove it?" Henry demanded, not even realizing that the entire room was watching the two teenagers with wide eyes.

"What are you suggesting?" Francis asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I am challenging you to a wrestling match, brother," Henry informed him with a smirk. "We shall see if you can prove your words unless you are afraid that I will defeat you." His smile widened when he saw the outrage on the Frenchman's face.

"Enough!" Suddenly Arthur was on his feet and glaring at the Duke of York. He didn't even wait for Francis to answer his brother's taunts as he would not let the treaty be ruined by two squabbling children trying to prove their manhood. "I will not permit any kind of fighting between the two of you."

"But Arthur, he is insulting our country," Henry protested.

"I am sure that he did not intend to and he will apologize for his boasts," Charles said sternly, shooting Francis a meaningful look.

Unlike Henry, Francis had no intention of making things worse by arguing with his cousin in public. "I humbly beg your forgiveness, Your Highness, I think I have had too much wine and it has caused me to speak wildly," Francis said respectfully, inclining his head.

"I accept your apology," Henry replied grudgingly before Marguerite quickly turned the topic to something more mundane.

"A part of me half-wishes that I had let them fight. They could have knocked some sense into each other," Arthur grumbled just loud enough for his companions to hear.

"That is tempting but if one of them won, we would never get them to shut up about it," Charles quipped. Arthur laughed and Elizabeth giggled. Although Katherine was much more composed than her husband and sister-in-law, her lips curved upwards. Feeling that the tension that Francis and Henry had caused had ended, the French King lifted up his goblet and declared: "To the brotherhood between France and England. God bless us!"

"Amen."

* * *

After the festivities were over, Arthur summoned Henry to his tent and railed against his brother's behavior.

"Not only did you embarrass our sister and your fiancée by making such a ridiculous challenge, you also risked putting the entire peace treaty in jeopardy," Arthur ranted, looming over his brother with a furious expression on his face.

Despite his own anger, the Duke of York could not help but think that his brother looked exactly like their father in that moment. No longer did Arthur seem like the meek and easy-going boyish prince. Now he was a man and a king, a fierce lion ready to strike his subject for what he perceived as an error of judgment.

"Brother-" Henry began.

"NO! In this moment, I am your king not your brother. I am your lord and master who you have disrespected far too many times for me to let you get away with it this time," Arthur snapped.

He had always allowed his brother to voice his disagreements with Arthur's decisions during privy council sessions, as he relished that there was at least one man who was not afraid to voice their opinion in fear of upsetting their king but having his younger brother not only challenge his future brother-in-law's and the French monarch's cousin's honor but to also publicly argue when Arthur had put his foot down was going too far.

Francis had been drunk and boorish and yet he had been decent enough not only to listen to his king but also apologize for his behavior with far more grace than Henry had done. Worse still, he was three years younger than the English prince.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, the Count of Angoulême was insulting our country and I felt that I needed to defend our honor," Henry said through gritted teeth. It galled him that his brother was scolding him like he was a misbehaving child. Arthur may act like their father but he was not the late King Henry.

"Or you could have been the bigger person and held your tongue. Instead of acting like an imprudent brat who would endanger the happiness of others just so he can prove himself as a man. Let me tell you something, Henry, you acted like a fool and a child not a courtier worthy of his seat on my council table."

Henry's eyes widened and he looked up at his brother, aghast at the thought of losing his exalted position.

"Art-I mean Your Majesty-" he began but the oldest Tudor raised his hand to silence him.

"No, when we return to England, you and your wife will retire to one of your country estates, you may not return to court until the end of September and none of your friends may visit you until then," Arthur declared. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Your Majesty," Henry said, biting his lip to stop himself from arguing and making it worse for himself.

After being dismissed from his brother's presence, the Duke of York stormed towards his own tent, his expression thunderous. However, his bad mood evaporated instantly when he saw who was waiting for him inside.

"Your Highness, I hope that I am not intruding but I felt that our time at the feast was far too short to get to know each other," Marguerite explained, fluttering her eyelashes coyly.

Although they were already married by proxy, there was something scandalous about them being alone together which just made Henry feel even more drawn to this enchanting woman.

"Well I certainly would not mind getting to know you," Henry chuckled, taking her hand in his and kissing it.

"Shall we start with a game of chess?" Marguerite suggested, pulling her hand away before his lips could go further up her arm. "The winner will receive a kiss from the loser."

Henry grinned at her, already picturing his lips on hers. "I shall be most happy to oblige."

Perhaps a few months away from court wouldn't be a bad thing as long as he had his wife by his side. She certainly seemed like the type who knew how to keep a man entertained in more ways than one.

* * *

_**June 30 1510** _

 

After years of waiting, it was finally time for Princess Elizabeth Tudor to officially be known as Queen Elisabeth of France. Ten days after her wedding to King Charles, she rode to the Basilica of Saint-Denis and was crowned by Cardinal Philippe de Luxembourg.

"With all my father's talk of how our countries had spent so much time as enemies and that I would be the one to bring peace, I actually feared that the French people would not accept me as their queen," Elisabeth murmured as she waved to the cheering crowd as the royal carriage rode past them to the palace. "But now I can see that I was worrying needlessly and their warm welcome is making me feel as though I am back home."

"This is your home now, Lis," Charles told her, hoping to make her smile by using the French version of her nickname.

"I know and it is beautiful," Elisabeth said, beaming at him, kissing his cheek sweetly. "Not to mention my new husband and king is quite handsome."

Charles could feel his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Not as lovely as you," he said, wanting to kick himself for how awkward that compliment was. Luckily she did not seem to care and giggled delightedly.

Then Elisabeth cupped his cheek in her hand, pressed her lips against his, causing all the insecurity he was feeling to melt away. The crowd of people seemed to cheer louder when they saw their king sharing a sweet kiss with his bride.

"Are you happy, my king?" Elisabeth inquired coyly when she pulled away, keeping her forehead pressed to his.

"Very happy," Charles replied, stroking her cheek.

This was a very good beginning to what would hopefully be a content and fruitful marriage.

* * *

_**June 31 1510** _

 

Instead of returning to England with the rest of his brother's subjects, Henry instead requested that he be able to spend some time in Calais with Marguerite as a honeymoon of sorts. It seemed that the new Duke and Duchess of York could hardly keep their hands off each other were eager to spend time together away from the eyes of the English court. Arthur had granted that request, although he made it quite clear that the Duke's punishment was still in effect and only Henry's groomsmen were allowed to stay with him.

The Duke and Duchess of York weren't the only ones who had absent themselves from court. Queen Katherine had been throwing up throughout the boat ride from Calais back to England and she was not feeling any better now that they were home. At first, Arthur had chalked it up to seasickness but when she continued to feel ill during and after the journey back to Whitehall Palace, he feared that something was wrong with his wife and he requested that the royal physician take a look at her.

Although Arthur would have loved to stay by her side, he had to discuss what had been going on since he had been gone with his mother and grandmother and then he had a line of petitioners to get through.

He was surprised when one of the first men seeking his audience was the Earl of Surrey and his son. The two Howards had stayed in England and had amble time to talk to the Dowager Queen and the King's Grandmother if they had a problem.

Arthur knew that his decision to make them regents was unorthodox but with Henry coming with them and the Duke of Buckingham as the Earl Marshal, the King had believed that they were the only two he trusted to take care of his kingdom while he was in France.

"Your Majesty, I apologize for taking so long to come to you with this bad business but I was unsure if my information was truly dangerous," the Earl admitted. "It's about your cousin the Duke of Buckingham."

Thomas Howard Senior was pushing seventy and his son was thirteen-years-older than Arthur and yet both men seemed to have an air of two children telling their teacher about something their classmate did; either fearing they would be punished as well or feeling bad about tattling.

"Say on."

"His Grace, the Duke has been speaking widely and when he returned from France, his words have gotten even more concerning. He has mentioned that he believes that every Tudor King is doomed to fail. That you are too weak-willed, that the Duke of York is too hot-headed and the rest of the male line are only children who will be influenced to be just as bad. He says that he feels it would be better if the Duke of Suffolk was made King of England again," Thomas Howard Sr continued.

"I swear on my wife's life that neither that our family is loyal to the crown-to you, Your Majesty," his son finished, hoping that mention of Anne Howard, Arthur's aunt, would convince the King that none of the Howards were repeating their past mistake of siding against the Tudors.

Arthur barely heard them, fear and anxiety tying his insides into knots. God dammit all.

The Duke of Suffolk fled England along with his brother. Both had been sent back to England some time ago joining their youngest brother in the Tower of London. King Henry had wanted his son to execute them once he became king but Arthur had thought they would not cause any trouble now that they were safely locked up.

Now if the Earl of Surrey could be believed-and surly he would not be causing trouble by making false accusations- it seemed that Edward Stafford was planning on toppling the peace of England because he suddenly was displeased with the Tudors.

The red-haired monarch shuddered as he thought of what would happen to his family if this plot succeeded. Stafford would no doubt kill Arthur and Henry, he even might kill Edmund, William, John despite their young age. As for the ladies, what would he do to them. Katherine and Elizabeth might be spared but Margaret might follow her grandsons to the block. As for Kathy and Maggie, they could be married off to either men of low station or forced to wed the sons of their family's murderers.

"Your Majesty, it may be just talk as the Duke of Buckingham has not mentioned how he is planning to free the de la Poles," Thomas Howard pointed out, looking rather sympathetic as if he could read the young King's thoughts. "But I felt that it was my duty to inform you of this matter anyway."

"I'm glad you did and if he asks for your help to free the Poles from the Tower of London, I beseech you to go along with him," Arthur said, his mind racing as he formatted a plan. "Do not give him support unless he asks for it though. I want to catch him in the act but I would prefer not to tempt him into committing treason."

"Understood, Your Majesty, we shall not fail you."

* * *

After a bit more discussion about what to do about Stafford, Arthur concluded his audience with the Howards. Despite wishing to go to Katherine's rooms so he could talk to her about this new development, he refused to shirt his responsibilities just because he was feeling apprehensive and outraged at the behavior of the cousin he believed was loyal to him.

Hours passed before Arthur was done with all the petitions and he quickly made his way to the Queen's apartments. When he entered, he saw that his wife was hemming one of his shirts and he could not help but smile.

Katherine was an expert seamstress and even when she was just the Princess of Wales, she insisted on making his shirts herself despite him having enough money to afford a seamstress. His father might have been a frugal man but he did not think that a queen nor a future queen should be doing the work of a servant. Arthur, however, was touched by the gesture and wore her work with pride.

"How are you feeling, my love? What did Dr. Linacre say?" Arthur quizzed her after kissing her lips chastely and sitting down next to her. Her ladies had left the room when he came in, giving the royal couple some privacy.

"He said there is a good cause for my sickness and it is not from the boat ride. It seems that our family will have a new arrival sometime in January," Katherine explained playfully. To her surprise instead of becoming elated as he had when she told him she was pregnant four times before, a flash of fear appeared in her husband's eyes, causing her to become concerned. "Arthur, what is it?"

"Nothing, Catalina, my love," Arthur lied, taking her hand in his. When he saw that she about to press him for more information, he quickly added: "Nothing to be worried about right now. I swear I will tell you more once we have welcomed our sixth child into the world. For now, I need you to trust that I have everything under control. You do trust me, don't you?"

"Of course, I do," Katherine answered him automatically, caressing his hand with her thumb.

Arthur kissed both of her hands before he embraced her, making a silent vow.

_I won't let anyone hurt our family. I can protect you, our children, my mother, my grandmother and my brothers from any threat._

* * *

_**July 28 1510** _

_Brother, I am afraid. Even as I write these words, I cannot help but laugh at my own softness but it is the truth. I am afraid that Buckingham might actually pull off this insane plot of his. Last night, I had a nightmare that William and John had taken our uncles' spot in the Tower of London and just as they did, my boys disappeared into thin air._

_It has been days since I learned of Buckingham's treasonous rants and I can feel myself growing more paranoid during each day. It is the not knowing whether or not he will act that is killing me. Part of me wants to send Buckingham to the tower and never let him out again but I cannot act rashly for others might accuse me of imprisoning an innocent man._

_I can only hope that Buckingham is only speaking foolishly and has no plans to commit treason but if he does, I will be ready for him. Every letter he sends will be monitored and if he sets one foot near the Tower of London, he will become a resident there- for a short stay before he lays his head on the block._

_However, that does nothing to quell my fears. If I miscalculate and Buckingham along with the de la Pole brothers mange to wrest the crown from my grasp, it will be the end for all of us._

_I hope I have not ruined your honeymoon, Henry but I do hope you will hurry home to England for I am in need of someone who will no doubt bluntly tell me to keep it together._

_Your brother, Arthur Rex_

The Duke of York gritted his teeth as he put the letter down, his expression fierce. If he was in his brother's shoes, Buckingham would be a head shorter the minute he caught a whiff of any sort of treason.

However, Arthur was always one to be merciful; the fact that he referenced executing Buckingham at all told Henry just how concerned he was about the safety of his children and brothers.

"Henry? What is it?" Marguerite asked, studying her husband's face.

"Arthur wants us to return to court," Henry explained, not bothering to tell her what else his brother had said. It was nothing for her to be concerned about.

"A pity. We so enjoying ourselves here," Marguerite remarked, smiling. "Our hosts were so thoughtful to throw us a masquerade and a joust. And I was looking forward to seeing you win the tennis tournament."

Henry smirked. If they had gone to England with the rest of the court, Arthur would not have been happy if the Duke of York had planned for such entertainments during his temporary banishment to the countryside. However, Marguerite had hinted to the mayor of Calais how she and her husband would enjoy such activities for their honeymoon, allowing them to have the indulgences they both adored without the judgment of Arthur.

"I will have plenty of time to show off my skills when we go home, my sweet Daisy but for now we must make ready to depart to England within the next week," Henry told her, rejoining her on the bed. "Of course we don't have to do anything right away. We can wait until morning."

With that, the Duke of York began trailing his lips on his wife's shoulders and his hands over her chest.

Arthur and whatever was going on with Buckingham could wait. Right now, all he cared about was the woman moaning his name and the son he hoped they would conceive if they hadn't done so already.

* * *

_**August 21 1510** _

 

Prince William would be eight-years-old in ten days and it ensured that the entire court was busy getting ready for the celebration which was extra special as on that day, he would also be invested in his father's old title of the Prince of Wales.

"From what I hear the Queen has convinced the King to marry her two nieces to their sons. Someday we will have a king who has more Spanish blood than he has English blood," Edward Stafford jeered. "If it weren't for how squeamish His Majesty was about the warfare, I would think we were firmly underneath the thumb of not only Spain but also the Holy Roman Empire."

"Will you hold your tongue, there could be unfriendly ears listening in," Thomas Howard the younger remarked, rolling his eyes.

By God, if Buckingham didn't shut up, there would be no need to spring the trap, King Arthur could arrest him for being such a loudmouth.

"Forgive me. My blood is heated and I am growing more annoyed by the Tudors with every passing day," Buckingham grumbled. "It's just when I look at the two men of the Tudor family, I cannot decide who would make a sorrier king. One is weak-willed and meek while the other is too hot-headed and brash."

"At least the Duke of York would be more than happy to join the League of Cambrai and led England to glorious victory," Thomas Boleyn pointed out, causing his brother-in-law to raise an eyebrow at him.

With the Earl of Surrey off at his estates, it left his son and brother-in-law to listen to Stafford and his band of followers as he aired his grievances.

"True. While the Duke of York might be married to a Frenchwoman, I doubt he would let her control him," Buckingham agreed before sobering. "Speaking of the French, I have managed to contact some mercenaries who might help us with our goal."

"And what goal would that be?" Thomas Howard questioned, although he knew the answer.

"To free the de la Poles and return England to the Yorks," Stafford replied.

"So you really think we can stage a coup and defeat the King of England without an army backing us?" Thomas Howard deadpanned incredulously.

At his side, Thomas Boleyn couldn't help but think his brother-in-law was taking this talk about treason far too calmly. Surely the Howards weren't fools enough to betray the Tudors who were unlikely to forgive them a second time.

Then it clicked. He had noted that King Arthur had been often glancing wearily at Buckingham after the Earl of Surrey had met with him. And Thomas knew from his wife that the King's mother and grandmother were not planning on telling her about Buckingham until they had more proof.

It seemed that unbeknownst to Elizabeth of York and Margaret Beaufort, King Arthur had found out and had asked the two Howard men to spy on Buckingham just as Lady Margaret had entrusted Thomas Boleyn as her spy.

He would have to speak to his brother-in-law about this later. Right now, it was time to learn more about the duke's plan.

"We shall find a way to build an army but for now we shall free the Duke of Suffolk and his brothers and they can flee somewhere safe where the King of England cannot reach them," Edward explained, smirking slightly. "Even if we are caught everyone knows that the king is too soft-hearted to kill anyone."

 _That's because no one has been stupid enough to endanger the lives and well being of his family._ Thomas Boleyn thought disdainfully.

* * *

_**November 22 1510** _

_**France** _

 

His mother had given birth to a daughter Renée of Orléans on the 25th of October. Out of the fourteen times Anne was pregnant, she had given birth to only three healthy children. Charles could not blame his stepfather for feeling disappointed even though Renée was a lively robust babe.

The Duke of Orléans loved his daughters and he never once scolded his wife for her failures to produce a son.

"I am old, Charles, I will be surprised if I manage to live another five years," Louis remarked as he and Charles walked through the garden which was nearly covered in snow.

"Don't talk like that, Louis, I beg of you," Charles pleaded, the idea of losing his stepfather who was his guiding light even after he came of age to begin his responsibilities as king.

"You are a child no longer, Charles, I cannot keep my failing health from you. I had hoped to have a son to succeed me as Duke of Orléans but if I may be candid, you are too much like a son to me for any other boy to be my heir," Louis remarked, chuckling fondly. He gripped his cane tightly as a series of hacking coughs overcame him.

"Perhaps we should go back inside, this weather can't be good for your health," Charles suggested, hoping to usher the older man back into the palace.

"I hope you and your wife are luckier than me," Louis continued, not moving from the spot they were standing in. "I hope that at the very least I will live long enough to meet at least one grandchild."

"Regardless of when he is born, I will name my firstborn son Louis, Father," Charles murmured. "To honor the man who raised me so well."

The old duke was clearly touched by his stepson's words as his eyes seemed to water as he pulled Charles into an embrace.

"At least God blessed your mother with you and your sisters," Louis said, his arm around Charles' shoulders as they walked back into the palace.

* * *

_**December 1 1510** _

_**Spain** _

 

Juan sat in his chair as he drowned another goblet of wine. One of his wife's maids had broken a glass goblet and a piece of that glass had gone into Margarita's foot. The wound had become gangrenous and the doctors recommended that they amputate her foot. Unfortunately, she died from an overdose of opium that was given so she would not feel the pain of the operation.

The Spanish monarch felt both devastated and angry as he processed the news of his beloved wife's death. He had already sent for his poor children, wanting to be close with them as the six of them grieved her death.

Infanta Margarita, Infante Alfonso, Juan and Maximiliano would be devastated by their mother's death but at least they would have some memories of her. Poor sweet Infanta Catalina was only two and yet she had been robbed of the love of a mother at such a young age.

When King Juan learned that Margarita was not breathing, he had spent the better part of the morning, wailing and beating his hands blooding against the wall. Hours later, he sent for his council members for an impromptu meeting.

"I want all those responsible for my Margarita's death to be executed," Juan ordered, his voice deadly soft with an edge of venom. He would not let those awful creatures who took his wife from him go unpunished. They had snuffed out a light in his dark world and they deserved to pay for their crime.

"Your Majesty, the queen's death is tragic but it was an accident," one of his councilors reasoned.

"IT WAS MURDER!" Juan roared, throwing his goblet at the offending man's head. "I don't know who is more to blame for killing her the maid who wounded her or the physicians who gave her the opium. All I know is they took a beautiful, kind and generous woman not just from me and our children but also from her country. They shall be hanged like the traitors they are."

"But it was an accident, they did not intend to harm her," the brave councilor pointed out as he prepared to duck whatever his king threw at him next.

"The intent of their actions does not matter," Juan snarled, looking very much like he was about to throttle the man in front of him. "Queen Marguerite is dead and I want someone to pay for it!" The way he was looking, his councilors would not have been surprised if he was perfectly willing to spill their blood for his vengeance.

"Your Majesty, please, Queen Marguerite would not want them to die on her account."

The men around the table held their breaths as Juan went uncharacteristically quiet, his rage bleeding out of him.

"No, she would not," he agreed softly but then his eyes hardened. "Then they shall be exiled from Spain, never to return on the pain of death."

Unwilling to listen to anymore, Juan left the privy council to return to his bedchambers where he sought solace in another jug of wine.

"I shall never love or marry ever again," he vowed. "You are my one true wife and my one true queen, Marguerite and I swear I will do my best to honor you. I will remind our children every day of the magnificent woman you were and I will open a church in your name. To Queen Marguerite!" He raised his glass to toast the woman he loved so fiercely.

* * *

 _**December 15 1510** _  
_**Portugal** _

 

"First my sister and now my brother. God's teeth, can any of my siblings grieve their spouses without losing their minds?" Maria demanded after reading their ambassador's report.

"Well at least he's decided not to kill innocent people who never wanted this to happen," Manuel said, not even arguing with his wife. He was angry when Isabel had died but he had never thought to blame those who indirectly caused her death.

He briefly wondered how King João would have reacted if it had been one of his children who indirectly killed his wife. Surely the monarch of Spain would not call for their deaths. Manuel shuddered at that thought.

"He exiled a poor maid who has no contacts outside of whatever family she had in Spain and a physician who is unlikely to ever find work because of such a stain on his reputation. He might as well have hanged them, that would have actually been less cruel than exiling them from their homeland," Maria snapped, pacing back and forth, her eyes flashing angrily. "He has always seen things in black and white and I guarantee that this is only the beginning."

"Of what?" Manuel inquired, wondering what exactly his wife was getting at.

"I don't know but I fear whatever it is, it will be his children who suffer the worst," Maria said, a faraway look in her eyes.

She loved her brother. She truly did. But it was becoming clear to her that João was heading down a dark path since he executed their father. And without the woman he loved keeping him grounded, the path would only get darker.

Maria just hoped she would not live long enough to see her brother reach his worst.

* * *

Meanwhile in the royal children's residence, Mary of England was thinking about her siblings.

It had been almost five years since she had last seen them. She wished that they would come to visit her or she could go to them so they could see that she was no longer a little girl but now she was on the cusp on her womanhood.

Her father's death had devastated her and all she had wanted to do was jump onto a boat and sail into the loving arms of her mother. She wanted to talk to her sisters and hear their advice and stories. She wanted to see her dear brothers and learn how they were doing. She wanted to see her nieces and nephews even though she knew they probably didn't even remember her.

Her wedding day would take place in less than two years and Mary felt afraid. She wasn't ready to be a wife and a mother. She couldn't see Miguel as anything but a friend and playmate.

It was a woman's duty to marry for politics but Mary wanted to marry someone she loved. Was that too much to ask?

"You are brooding again," Isabel teased as she took a seat next to the older girl.

"I am not," Mary protested. "I am just thinking."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Isabel offered, ignoring her friend's blatant lie.

"First of all, I think your brother is wonderful and I care for him a great deal but I can't help but wish that I could marry for love which I know is a childish thought and it's my duty as a princess to marry," Mary rambled, feeling slightly relived to be getting this off her chest.

"Are you in love with someone else?" Isabel inquired, an eyebrow raised.

"No," Mary assured her. She may still think of Henry's best friend from time to time but that was not love. Besides Henry had wrote to her that Brandon had gotten married so even if she was free and in love with him, he was not.

"Then maybe, you need to just give it time. After all, you never know how you feel about my brother in ten years. Maybe it'll happen gradually," Isabel suggested.

"That is very profound," Mary remarked, surprised at the seven-year-old's wisdom.

"Did I make you feel better?" Isabel inquired.

"You did," Mary said with a fond smile, ruffling her hair. Even though she missed her older sisters, it was nice to be the big sister for a change.

"Good. I'm glad."

* * *

_**December 16 1510** _

_**England** _

 

It was his mother's birthday and even though she was currently too big with child to participate in the celebrations, his father still insisted on throwing a great big feast in her honor.

Undeterred by his governesses insistence that his mother was much too tired to be disturbed, William managed to slip away from her and his other servants, planning on going to see his mother so he could wish her a happy birthday. Unfortunately, in his attempts of avoiding the courtiers, William had gotten him lost. Afraid that he might be returned to the nursery if he asked for help, the Prince of Wales just crept around the corridors, searching for something that would point him in the direction of his mother's rooms.

When he spotted a woman he knew was his grandmother's lady, he quickly followed her into a set of apartments. Surly his grandmother who doted on him would guide him to his mother instead of insisting that he go back to her governess.

As he sped up his pace to follow the lady, he bumped into a nine-year-old girl who had just exiting another room, carrying a bundle of parchment in her arms. He knocked the papers from her hands, sending some of them into the fire.

"Look what you made me do!" the girl snapped. "I spent all day working on writing that translation and now you went and ruined it."

William gaped at her, shocked that anyone would speak to him like that. There was a small part of him that wanted to tell her that he was the Prince of Wales and she should never be rude to a prince. But he knew that his father would be want him to be polite especially when he had bumped into her.

"I apologize, my lady," William said as he stopped to pick the remaining papers up. "I should have looked where I was going."

"Yes you should have," the auburn-haired girl agreed, slightly mollified by his apology. "But it was an accident and I should have been looking where I was going as well. It's just I wanted to impress Lady Beaufort with good I've been doing with my lessons and give her my translation of a French poem as a Christmas present and it needs to be perfect."

William realized that this girl must be one of the children his great- grandmother had taken upon herself to see that they were properly schooled. He now understood her nervousness as even her grandchildren were apprehensive about being less than perfect to the fearsome Lady Margert Beaufort.

The young prince could almost see her glare if she ever found out that he had snuck away from his guardians and was now roaming the castle with no escort. Not to mention, she was the one who had such strict guidelines about woman during the lying in period making it difficult for anyone, William included, to visit the queen as she neared her ninth month of pregnancy.

"Do you need any help with your translation? My Aunt Daisy is French so she might be able to help you," William suggested. His aunt was fairly new in England but she had learned enough English to be able to bound quickly with the royal children. To avoid confusion with the two other Margarets, the Duchess of York had suggested that they in private they call her by the nickname Uncle Henry chose for her.

The girl glanced at papers she had managed to save and chewed her lip thoughtfully.

"I don't know-"

"Oh please do, it would make me feel much better if I could make it up to you," William pleaded, not wanting to be the cause if his great-grandmother chose to chaste her for not being able to finish her translation.

"Well if it will make you feel better, I suppose I'll go," the girl said with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm Anne. Anne Boleyn."

"William," he replied, wondering if he should take her hand and kiss it like he had seen many other men do with ladies they were introduced to. Instead he just offered his arm for her to hold as they left the Boleyn apartments.

Luckily the corridors to the Duke and Duchess of York's apartments were not filled with too many courtiers. None of whom seemed to notice the Prince of Wales or that two young children were walking unaccompanied.

They were just arriving when King Arthur was exiting his brother's chamber. Anne immediately dropped to her knees and practically pulled William down with her. Praying that his father would not notice him, William kept his head bowed. Of course his luck would run out at this moment.

"Would you like to introduce me to your young friend, William?" his father inquired, looking as though he was struggling not laugh and keep a stern face.

"This is Mistress Anne Boleyn, Father," William replied as he rose. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Anne staring with her mouth open and her eyes wide in shock. "I ruined her French translation so I told her that Aunt Marguerite would help her."

The King smiled at the young girl before having a page escort her inside while he talked to his son.

"What in Heaven's name were you thinking? Forget about the amount of panic you caused by your disappearing act, you could have gotten yourself kidnapped or hurt," Arthur scolded William once they were in a private chamber.

"I'm sorry, Father, I just wanted to visit Mother on her birthday," William said earnestly, giving him the puppy eyes that never failed to get him out of trouble.

"If you ever pull something like this again. You will stay in Eltham and not be able to go to court for a long time," Arthur told him sternly, not softening. "Is that clear?"

"Yes Father."

"Good boy. Now when we visit your mother, we will say that I brought you to see her from the nursery," Arthur stressed, not wanting Katherine to know about their son's escapade.

When William's governess had told him that he had managed to slip away from her, Arthur had felt his heart leap into his throat. It got worse when he spoke to the sentries outside his wife's apartments who told him that William had not been there. He had checked Henry's apartments next and was on his way to his mother's chambers when he spotted two children outside. He had wanted to cry and laugh when he saw his son, obviously trying to avoid being seen.

Now that he had made sure his son knew how deeply he had erred, he was just happy that William was safe and sound.

_He's safe for now. If Buckingham gets his way. William will disappear for good._

Arthur shuddered at that thought and put his arm around William's shoulders, pulling him closer to him as they walked to the Queen's apartments. No, he would not let anything happen to his son. He would protect his family from the de la Poles and Buckingham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think about my characters especially thoughts on the troubled King of Spain.
> 
> So the Field of Gold happened ten years early and Queen Margaret of Spain's death (almost matches her death in history exactly) happened twenty years early.
> 
> Also anyone else know when they were allowed to drink wine in the 1500s because I felt a little weird having a sixteen-year-old becoming drunk. Thankfully his cousin has more control over him than Arthur does with Henry.
> 
> Speaking of things happening earlier, Buckingham thinks he has three loyal men listening to him instead he has three spies who are working for two different people.
> 
> I hope people found the William and Anne scene cute.
> 
> Please be sure to review. I want your thoughts, complaints, concerns, corrections, compliments and whatever else you can think of.


	6. What Makes a Good King?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After birthing her son, Katherine learns what has been happening while she was pregnant. The Duke and Duchess of York are hit by an unexpected tragedy Margaret and Elizabeth worry about an upcoming decision Arthur will make. Meanwhile in France, Queen Elisabeth dines with her husband's cousin who is eager to sooth her doubts.

_**February 22 1511** _

"Rise Sir Griffith Ryce Baron of Ludlow," King Arthur commanded smiling down at his old friend. In two years, William would return to Ludlow where he would take control of the Welsh council and there was no other man Arthur trusted to guide his son than the newly created baron.

On the first of January, Katherine had given birth to their third son and Arthur was eager to honor some of his favorite courtiers by ennobling them in celebration of the birth of Prince Hal.

The next person he was granting a title to was Margaret Pole who unlike the Staffords she was not like her traitorous father and she was one of Katherine's favorite ladies. With her husband dead, she would be one of the first ladies getting a title of peerage in her own right.

"Lady Margaret Pole by orders of King Arthur, you will be henceforth known as the Countess of Salisbury," Warham recited as Margaret Pole kneeled before the two thrones and Arthur laid the earl's coronet on her head.

"Rise Lady Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury," the king commanded, smiling down at his cousin.

"Thank you, Your Majesties," Margaret said gratefully, smiling at both of them. She curtsied twice before going back to where her children were seated.

Neither Arthur nor Katherine could keep the smiles off their faces as Prince John came forward. Although he was only six-years-old, his parents had thought that he should be given his dukedom now instead of waiting until he was older.

"Rise Prince John, Duke of Richmond," Arthur commanded as he placed the duke coronet on his son's head, giving him a small pat on the shoulder as he did so.

He had chosen the dukedom of Richmond as his father had once been the Earl of Richmond and he felt quite sentimental about it.

The Tudors had started from a mere earldom and now they were the most powerful family in England. Nothing would topple them from the throne. Let Buckingham, Suffolk and his brothers try to usurp the rightful royal family, Arthur would be ready for them.

"Come, let us feast!" Arthur exclaimed, now that the ceremony was over. Katherine took his arm as he led the court into the banquet hall.

"The Duke of Buckingham seems to have decided to snub our invitation to the ceremony and the feast," Katherine noted in a low voice as she scanned the tables for any sign of the knave who she knew was plotting her family's demise.

As he had promised all those months ago, Arthur had told her what was going on after she had been churched. Understandably the Spanish Queen was horrified and she had wanted Buckingham to join Suffolk and his brothers in the Tower of London but she trusted that her husband knew what he was doing and had not pressed him to give the man his well-deserved punishment just yet.

"According to the Earl of Surrey, his rants against me have increased but he seems to be waiting for a safe way to communicate with the de la Poles before he moves forward," Arthur explained, his eyes on their children, reminding himself of what it would mean if Buckingham succeeded. "Boleyn thinks that he can convince a few of the guards to act as double or rather triple agents."

After realizing that his in-laws were working for the King, Sir Thomas Boleyn had gone to the red-haired monarch and told him everything he knew including the two people he was working for. Feeling slightly annoyed that his grandmother and mother were keeping this from him, Arthur had asked Boleyn not to inform the two ladies that he knew what was going on.

" _Planning on surprising them yourself?" Henry had jested when his brother confided in him on what was going on once he had returned from his honeymoon._

" _Nay, I'll let Grandmother think I'm in the dark and then when she decides it's finally time to tell me, I shall let her know that I'm already aware of the treason going on under my nose. I think her face when she learns that I have been a step ahead of her this whole time shall be quite amusing," Arthur had replied smirking, glad that there was something to look forward to during this whole ordeal._

"What if the de la Poles don't agree to the Duke's plan?" Katherine inquired, knowing her husband was far too honorable to kill these men if they didn't actually commit treason.

"Then only Buckingham will be executed. However, I doubt that will be the case. The older De La Poles brothers tried to rebel against my father and it was only because of the Holy Roman Emperor's pleading did they escape the block," Arthur reminded her with a grimace. "I have no doubt that all three of them will jump at a chance to dispose of me at the very least to get out of their life imprisonment."

Katherine shivered and she placed her hand on Arthur's. "If they succeed, I will lead an army to avenge you," she whispered passionately.

"My warrior queen," Arthur laughed, kissing her lips sweetly.

* * *

The Duchess of York had been in labor since the wee hours of the morning. Her husband had been so happy when he learned of her pregnancy and had opted to return to York Palace with her instead of staying for Christmastide at court while she was in confinement.

Now Henry waited anxiously, drinking a glass of wine as his wife pushed their child into the world.

"I think we shall name him Henry of course," Henry said to Charles. "A Hal of York has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Who knows? Perhaps he'll marry one of your daughters."

Charles laughed. "Getting a bit of ahead of ourselves, aren't we, Harry?"

"Perhaps but I can hardly help myself," Henry laughed. "I am a man now and what is a man without any sons."

"I suppose I am still a boy then?" Charles deadpanned, giving his friend a rather dry look.

"Forgive me, Charles, I'm just so happy that I am speaking nonsense," Henry apologized, taking another gulp of wine.

The midwife appeared with a somber expression on her face. "Her Grace has given birth to a stillborn son," she said, her eyes lowered.

At once the atmosphere in the room become tense and grim. It looked like someone had pulled the rug from under Henry's feet, his happy expression crumbled into one of despair.

"How is Daisy? Is she well?" Henry demanded, fearing that the birth and subsequent death of their son would affect Marguerite's health to the point where she would die from childhood fever.

"As well as can be expected, Your Highness," the midwife replied, pity in her eyes. "She has not cried but she has demanded to hold the baby and now refuses to let anyone take him from her."

Henry closed his eyes for a brief moment, before setting his glass down and hurrying into his wife's bedchambers.

As the midwife said, Marguerite was sitting up in the bed, holding a bundle in her arms, she looked as through she was struggling to hold back tears. She was trying to be brave and Henry's heart ached for her.

"He looks so big. I don't understand what went wrong. What did I do wrong?" Marguerite whispered, biting her lip and she squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to keep in the tears that were leaking out.

At once Henry was at her side, holding her tightly.

"No, my love, it's not your fault. It's no one's fault," Henry assured her, unable to properly comfort his wife as he too had no idea why this happened.

His grandmother had a healthy son on her first try. His father had a son a year after he married Elizabeth of York. Arthur had a son less than a year after his wedding to Katherine when he wasn't even sixteen.

A healthy girl would have been better than a dead son and yet he was denied that too. Why had God punished them so severely?

No. This wasn't a punishment, just bad luck. He and Marguerite would try again and they would have many sons and daughter. It would be all right.

With that, thought in mind, Henry kissed his wife's hair and held her too him, whispering sweet words of comfort into her ears as she gave their dead son to the midwife and cried into his chest.

* * *

_**March 13 1511** _

"The baby had stopped kicking in January so the doctor thinks he must have died then," Henry explained, his voice gruff with grief. "I request to have my own Mayday celebrations at my estates so I may try and cheer my wife up."

"Granted, Henry. You are excused from your duties as President of the Council if you wish to return to York Palace now," Arthur suggested.

"Thank you but while Marguerite is recuperating I think it would be best to stay at court until she is churched," Henry told him, hoping that his brother would not send him back to his household which seemed to have a permanent dark cloud floating above it for the past fortnight.

"If you feel that is best. But perhaps we should take some time to visit Eltham, I think our brother along with your nieces and nephews are eager to see us," Arthur suggested, thinking it would be nice to visit the children for a day.

"That would be nice," Henry agreed with a sad smile on his face. He could not help the stab of envy he felt at the reminder that both his father and brother had healthy sons within the first year of their marriage.

Why was he not so lucky?

* * *

Meanwhile miles away at Havering Palace, Margaret Beoufort was struggling to raise from her chair. By God, her mind was still sharp as it had been forty years ago but her body betrayed her; reminding the world that she was a seventy-year-old great-grandmother.

However, she would not let her frail body stop her from doing what needed to be done. She glared at the servants who tried to step in and help her or worse dared to suggest that she remained seated while they fetched Elizabeth.

"I am not an invalid," she snarled at them, as she straightened her aching joints and began to walk towards her daughter-in-law's rooms. When she arrived she made an announcement: "Daughter, I come bearing a letter from Henry."

Although, Margaret doubted very much that Buckingham would have the brains to place a spy in their household, one could never be too careful when dealing with acts of treason so whenever one of them got a letter from either of the Boleyns, they would announce that they had a letter from Henry as a code to let the other woman know the true purpose of the letter.

"Thank you, Margaret. Anne, please bring a chair for the Countess," Elizabeth commanded one of her maids before sending them off to do some other chores, leaving her and Margaret alone. "What does he say this time?"

"He managed to convince three guards that he's working for the King-" the older woman began, standing by the windows, unwilling to sit down, especially after all that trouble she had gone through getting up from her own chair without help. She wasn't about to be humiliated in front of her daughter-in-law, no matter how close they had become.

"Which he is," Elizabeth interrupted, not liking how it sounded as though they were working against her son. Although a part of the Dowager Queen did want to tell Arthur what was going on, she feared he might not want to do all of this skullduggery and instead flat out ask Buckingham to atone for his heated words, leaving the de la Pole brothers alive and waiting for the next traitor to free them and throw England into yet another civil war.

Her son was a good man but sometimes being a good man wasn't enough to be a good king, a painful lesson that he would have to learn as his grandfather and father had learned before him.

"Yes, thank you for the unnecessary clarification, dear," Margaret drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes before she continued. "The guards have agreed to carry messages from Buckingham to the three de la Pole brothers, offering aide to stage a coup and then carry messages back to the courier in the Duke's household who is working for me."

"We need to tell Arthur about this soon. I hate keeping something as serious as treason secret from him," Elizabeth remarked softly, smoothing out an invisible crease in her dress.

"Your son is too weak to act without proof of all four men's treason," Margaret sneered.

"My son is not weak!" Elizabeth exclaimed, her eyes flashing dangerously. Although the Dowager Queen usually had the deposition of docile kitten, her inner lioness often came out when her children were being insulted or threatened. "He is just noble and merciful."

The derisive snort and the shrug of Margaret's shoulders made it clear that she saw no difference between being a merciful ruler and a weak ruler.

"To give credit where credit is due," Margaret said with a grimace. "There is one good thing about your son's softness. No one will accuse him of executing these men simply because they have Plantagenets blood in their veins."

Elizabeth shuddered as she thought of her Uncle George's son who had been imprisoned simply for being a legitimate male heir of York branch.

Sometimes good men could not afford to be noble when their thrones were at stake.

* * *

_**March 16 1511** _

Lady Muriel Howard had known of the King, the Queen and the Duke of York's visit in advance and yet she still scurried around, making sure that the palace was immaculate and the children were properly groomed.

Prince Edmund was twelve-years-old and it often galled him when the governess treated him as she did his nephews and nieces. He ached to have his own household like his older brother did once he turned sixteen. However, despite his annoyance, Edmund still relished being in charge of the nursery and he often used his role of uncle to get the younger children to fall in line.

Prince William stood in front of his uncle: despite being three years younger, he was still the heir to the throne and therefore the most important person in Eltham. A position, he clearly enjoyed, giving his uncle a cheeky grin when Lady Howard told Edmund to take a few steps back.

"Do you think Uncle Henry has brought our cousin with him?" Princess Isabella asked, her eyes lit up with excitement. At age five, she was already a social creature, enjoying meeting new people even if they were babies with whom she could not play with until they were older.

"No, Izzy, Uncle Henry's son died, remember?" Princess Katherine told her bluntly.

"Oh, poor Uncle Henry," Isabella murmured, determined to cheer her uncle up when she saw him.

"Knowing Henry, he won't want to be reminded of it. There we should just act as if everything is normal," Edmund commanded firmly.

Although Arthur and Henry were very different personality wise, Edmund noted that they both had a tendency to conceal their grief, preferring to pretend that they were above such emotions.

Edmund admired his older brothers greatly but sometimes he wished that they would at least be open with their feelings to him, instead of viewing him as too young for them to confide in.

His musing was interrupted when the front doors were opened and the royal entourage come into the Great Hall of Eltham.

"Your Majesties and Your Highness, I am pleased to welcome you back to Eltham," Lady Howard greeted them, curtsying three times.

"Lady Howard, I hope that you are well and that my children are not causing too much of a ruckus?" Arthur inquired with mock-sternness.

"No, they are behaving like perfect angels."

"And there have been no more incidents like Willie sneaking away," Edmund reported cheekily.

William reddened, his siblings snickered, Henry guffawed but Lady Howard and the other governesses looked uncomfortable at the reminder of that they had lost the Prince of Wales even if he had not actually left the castle.

"What are you talking about? What happened?" Katherine asked, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. It was clear that everyone including her husband- who looked rather embarrassed- know what Edmund was talking about.

Arthur was willing to tell her about the treason of the Duke of Buckingham but unwilling to tell her about an incident that involved their son. She could guess that whatever the incident was, it happened when she was pregnant and Arthur had not wanted to distress her but that did not mean that he should have hid it from her completely.

William mistook his mother's ire to be directed at him and he felt even more guilty for upsetting his mother.

"I just wanted to wish you happy birthday, Mama and I snuck out of the nursery when Lady Howard refused to take me," William told her apologetically, looking very shamefaced. "I didn't mean to cause a fuss, honest. I even apologized to Lady Howard and Papa for worrying them and Papa made me promise that I would never to do anything like that again."

Katherine forced a smile on her face. "Well I'm glad you took responsibility for your actions," she said, not wanting William to feel worse especially when it had been three months since her birthday. What was done was done and it sounded like Arthur had taken care of it so there was no point on dwelling on it.

* * *

Since today was such a lovely day, Arthur had thought it might be nice to have a little picnic with baby Hal dozing on a silk cushion as his mother doted on one-year-old Princess Maggie.

Edmund was having a mock duel with William while John, Katherine and Isabella watched and cheered their brother and uncle on.

"I hope Edmund is going easy on Will," Katherine remarked as she brushed her toddler daughter's hair.

"Hmm? What did you say, my love?" Arthur asked, looking back at his wife with a rather angry expression on his face.

"Is everything all right?" Katherine turned her head towards the direction Arthur had been looking in. She saw that Henry was standing close to Agnes Edwardes, Maggie's governess, and saying something to her that was making her giggle and blush.

"His wife is recovering from a tragic stillbirth and he seems to be using the ladies of the court to cheer himself up," Arthur said derisively. "I have a half a mind to send him back to his estates."

"Don't, you'll just make him more determined to seek out female companionship closer to home," Katherine pointed out wisely. At the very least, Henry was being discreet and hopefully her husband's infidelity would not reach poor Marguerite's ears.

Arthur was still frowning as he glanced down at Hal who seemed unperturbed by the noise his siblings were making. When Katherine had gone into confinement after he became king-perhaps the nobles didn't think it would work on the still shy Prince of Wales-he had noted that the number of nobles and gentlemen bringing their daughters to court had doubled. It seemed that they believed that he might be different then his father who-to Arthur's knowledge- had never taken a mistress.

"I just don't understand why Henry needs to have a mistress when he has a perfectly lovely and vibrant woman as his wife," the king grumbled, wondering how the overprotective King John would have reacted had Katherine married Henry who would not give up his womanizing ways for anyone.

"I pray that you will never understand," Katherine half-jested, smiling playfully.

"There is not and will never be any woman for me to desire but you. For you have conquered my heart and it is forever in your keeping," Arthur declared, his tone firm as he kissed her fingers one by one.

Feeling quite touched, Katherine simply beamed at him, affection shinning in her eyes.

"I, the Summer Queen, hereby dub thee Sir Edmund the Wise," Princess Kathy proclaimed, causing all the adults to turn their attention back to the children playing. Kathy and Isabella were wearing flower crowns while the three boys kneeled in front of them.  Kathy was holding one of the wooden swords and she now placed it on both of her uncle's shoulders before moving on to her brothers. "I, the Summer Queen, hereby dub thee Sir John the Loyal. I, the Summer Queen, hereby dub thee Sir William the Brave."

Once she finished, the adults broke out into applause.

"Would the knights, the queen and her lovely sister care to join us for our meal?" Arthur suggested as he signaled to the servants to start unpacking their meal.

* * *

_**July 9 1511** _

_**France** _

Without the help of Spain, Portugal or England, the Holy League was having trouble eradicating France's presence in Italy especially when King James of Scots sent troops to protect Navarre when the Holy Roman Emperor launched an attack on it.

Tired of fighting Pope Julius had come to an agreement with France and the Papal Army had returned to Italy, allowing France to retain most of its territories.

Queen Elisabeth was pleased that the war was over as her husband had practically thrown himself into statecraft ever since they came back from their honeymoon barely sparing a moment for his new bride.

Hopefully now Charles would at least spend the night in her chambers more frequently. Elisabeth could count on one hand the number of times he had visited her bed. Although he did spend an hour at the very least with her every day it still felt like she had spent most of their marriage without him.

But tonight would be different, Elisabeth had arranged to have a meal with her husband. She had worn a French dress that showed off just the right amount of her cleavage, had doused herself with sweet smelling perfume and had ordered the cooks to prepare Charles' favorite foods.

"You look lovely, my lady," her favorite French lady, Madeleine, assured her as they walked to the dining room, fashionably late of course. "I wouldn't be surprised if His Majesty decided to feast on you instead of his supper."

Elisabeth giggled at her friend's words. "Hush you, there are innocent ears presant."

"Are any of us really that innocent, Your Majesty?" Another one of her ladies inquired, laughing at her own bad joke.

The Queen smirked, knowing that her mother and grandmother would be quite scandalized at how bawdy her ladies were acting-even though their discussion was done in the privacy of her apartments. Knowing that they disproved just made the former English princess love her ladies-in-waiting even more.

However, Elisabeth's good mood soon soured when she saw that instead of her husband waiting for her it was instead the Duke of Angoulême.

"Your Majesty. My ladies," François greeted the young queen with a bow before flashing her ladies-in-waiting a winning smile.

"Where is my husband?" Elisabeth demanded, trying not to roll her eyes at the man who unlike Charles, seemed to spend more time flirting than doing much else.

"Well it seems that there is a dispute between two lords who wanted the King's opinion. He sends his apologies but he doesn't know how long it will take," François explained, having the decency to sound apologetic. "He has sent me in his stead."

"Of course he has," Elisabeth grumbled, wondering why it seemed like everyone had a claim on the king's time but his own wife.

"I beg Your Majesty not to be so disappointed for I am a good dinning companion," François told her as he pulled out a chair for her to sit in.

"Well I can only hope that you are better at conversation than you are at dancing," Elisabeth teased him, a smile tugging at her lips as she recalled how a few nights ago at her birthday celebrations, François had stepped on her dress nearly causing them both to fall.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, I fear that you are to blame for my mishap. You see, I could not focus on my dancing for your beauty was too distracting," François jested as he sat down in the seat adjacent to hers. He signaled the servants to start placing down the plates of food.

"Oh, you mean you were not looking over my shoulder at Mademoiselle Marie Gaudin? I recall a little bird telling me that the two of you were growing quite close," Elisabeth remarked with a raised eyebrow before she began to dig into her meat.

"What can I say? I am fascinated by beautiful ladies as they are with me," François laughed merrily, his eyes shining brightly.

"I cannot fathom why," Elisabeth said, giggling when François mimed being wounded by her words. "If your mother ever finds a wife for you, I pray she finds one who can finally tame you."

"Never. I am a wild stallion who will never be broken," François declared fiercely, snorting at the mere thought of any woman taming him. "As for my mother, she hopes to marry me to Charles' half-sister, Claude." He wrinkled his nose in disgust, clearly hating the thought of being married to his deformed cousin.

"I believe that she is betrothed to the Queen of Navarre's son, so I'm afraid your mother will have to look elsewhere for a bride for you," Elisabeth pointed out, frowning slightly. "I suppose there is a reason why your mother is wishing for you to be married to one of the Duke of Orléans' daughters."

She didn't even need to ask what the reason was. It was an open secret around the French court that the ambitious Louise of Savoy hoped her son would become King of France for he was third in line for the French throne- depending on how long Louis lived, he would soon be his cousin's heir, a mere step away from the crown.

"I doubt Charles will force me to marry anyone who doesn't please me unless he has no heirs," François remarked.

Elisabeth scowled. "Well he might never have any as he seems to avoid my bed like it were the plague. Sometimes I wonder if I simply don't interest him," she blurted out without thinking.

It was just so frustrating. Elisabeth wondered what she would have to do in order to convince her husband that she was worthy of his time.

"Your Majesty, do not talk like that. You are the most interesting, beautiful, intelligent, vivacious lady in this entire court," François complimented her earnestly.

"Thank you, my lord. If only my husband shared your views," Elisabeth murmured, suddenly feeling insecure.

"He does, Elisabeth, I swear to you," François told her, forgoing her formal title in hopes that she would find his words honest. "He loved you from the moment he laid eyes on your portrait."

"Then why does he not say so. Why does he not dance with me? Why does he not joust so he may wear my favor? Why does he not send me love letters or poems? Would that be to much to ask for?" Elisabeth demanded, biting her lip so she would not burst into angry tears.

She always had a romantic view of the French court which was known for its' charm and chivalric love. She had hoped that Charles would be the knight who swept her off her feet and shared her love of banquets and pangentry. Instead Charles seemed to view statecraft as a much more pleasurable pastime.

"My cousin is a man of few words, Lis, but I know he loves you for he would be a fool not to," François assured her, looking as though he would very much like get up, walk over to her and hug her.

"And yet here I am, spending the night with you instead of him," Elisabeth said with a sigh before adding courteously: "But I must admit that I'm glad the tonight's meal wasn't a complete waste. I'm glad you came, François."

"As am I."

"To good company," Elisabeth toasted, rising her goblet.

"Hear, hear," François agreed, raising his own goblet towards her before they both drank it and carried on eating, discussing mundane things.

 

* * *

After they had finished their meal and François had left the Queen's apartments, Elisabeth's ladies helped her get dressed in her nightgown. Madeleine waited until the other ladies were out of earshot before she requested to speak freely, a request that was of course granted.

"Your Majesty, it was not Marie Gaudin I saw the Duke of Angoulême staring at that night of your birthday. From what I observed, he could not take his eyes off of you," Madeleine remarked, looking rather apprehensive as she broached this particular topic.

"What are you saying?" Elisabeth asked, bewildered at the implication of her lady-in-waiting's words. Surely she was not suggesting that François had any sort of desire for her other than to be her friend.

"Nothing, my lady. It's just..." Madeline paused as she tried to form her words diplomatically. "I just think that you should be careful with His Grace. He is very charming but you are a married woman."

"How dare you suggest something like that! Do you think so little of me that you think I would cheat on my husband-with his cousin no less?" Elisabeth hissed, infuriated by her friend's gall. She was beginning to wonder if she had been too lax with Madeleine's tendency to always speak her mind. When she received her French ladies-in-waiting, Elisabeth had found Madeleine's frankness refreshing and the two women became fast friends.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, I do not mean to say that. I just think you should be careful when you spend time with the Duke. After all, rumors can get quite vicious especially towards royalty," Madeleine pointed out.

"I am a grown woman who does not need anyone telling me how to act. Furthermore, I am perfectly capable at conducting myself in a proper manner," Elisabeth snapped, her temper rising. She had no need for another mother and grandmother who were always poking their noses in her business, not allowing her to think for herself without worrying about their disapproval. "You may go."

"Your Majesty, I did not mean to offend-"

"I said go!" Elisabeth commanded harshly, glaring daggers at her friend. Madeleine recoiled like she had been slapped. However, she did not protest and instead she curtsied before she left her queen alone in her bedchamber as she said her nightly prayers.

* * *

Elisabeth was about to get into her bed and get some sleep when she heard someone shout to make way for the King and seconds later her husband walked in, shamefaced and carrying a bouquet of roses that was brought in from the gardens.

"Lis, I come with an apology. I have been neglecting you lately and I should have made more time for you," Charles told her, getting on one knee and extending the bouquet to her. "Please allow me to make it up to you."

"Well the roses are a start," Elisabeth said coyly, taking the flowers from him and calling out to one of her pages to fetch a vase and put them out in the hallway. Then she laid down on the bed, fluttering her eyelashes and giving Charles a sultry smile. "But I don't think I can forgive you for so rudely standing me up just yet."

"What else can I do?" Charles inquired anxiously, sitting on the bed, not realizing what his wife had in mind.

 _Oh, you sweet hopeless fool._ Elisabeth thought fondly as she put her arms around Charles' shoulders, kissed him passionately and pulled him on top of her, undoing the buttons of his doublet.

Thankfully, Charles got the message this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, I am picturing a "deleted scene" where after he had finished supper and said his goodbyes, Francis hightailed it to his cousin's apartments and basically drags him into the royal garden, telling him that Elisabeth was feeling neglected and hurt by his absence so he better bring her some roses, apologize and make love to his wife.
> 
> The Charles, Elisabeth and Francis relationship is gonna become rather important later on.
> 
> You'll notice there is a lack of Buckingham in this chapter, don't worry in the next chapter we're gonna see more of his plot but for now he's just forming the foundation for his plot.
> 
> Also I thought it would be rather symbolic if Henry and Katherine had a son named Henry born in 1511 but unfortunately for the Duke of York, while he'll be luckier than he was is history, he's not gonna be as lucky as his historical wives are.
> 
> Hey what do you guys think of me having each of the historical wives (other than Katherine for obvious reasons) marrying one of Arthur's sons?


	7. Truths and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Buckingham plot gets closer to being taken down, someone's being keeping a shameful secret. Meanwhile the politics in Europe are getting murky as allies are shifted and lines are drawn.

_**July 15 1511** _

"How are you feeling, Daisy?" Henry asked in the middle of dinner when there was a lull in the conversation.

Marguerite wondered if he was truly interested or if he merely was checking to see if she was pregnant again. After all, she and Queen Katherine had gotten pregnant around the same time before so with her sister-in-law pregnant so soon after the birth of her third son, perhaps she would be too.

Alas her courses had continued to come and although Henry had yet to voice his displeasure, she could tell that he was just a little disappointed that he had no children especially when it was possible that his brother was to have yet another son by the end of the year.

"I'm fine, Henry, just glad that we are home again," Marguerite replied. _And not at court where your mistress is._ Her father had been a womanizer and she could remember how he acted after enjoying a dalliance with one of her mother's ladies. She supposed she should be glad that Henry had not humiliated her by making one of her half-sisters his mistress yet.

"Well I thought we could use a little break from court," Henry said with a smile. "Perhaps tomorrow, we could go on a hunt."

"That does sound rather nice but I thought you might prefer spending the day indoors. I'm sure that we can find a way to keep ourselves entertained," Marguerite purred, wanting to remind him just how much pleasure she could bring him, causing whatever strumpet had caught his fancy to fade from his mind.

Henry practically leered at her in response.

"Your Highness, there's a letter for you," a page announced, ruining the moment and causing the Duke and Duchess of York to glare at him.

"Can't it wait," Henry snapped. But before the page could make a hasty retreat, he saw the sigil on the letter and his brow furrowed. "Give it here!" he barked, practically snatching it from the trembling page once the poor boy was in reach. He turned to Marguerite with a strained smile on his face. "Duty calls, my love. I must go."

"Oh is it from court?" Marguerite inquired, wondering if Arthur was summoning his brother again or if it was a response to a love letter, he sent to whatever slut he was sleeping with-although she doubted that it was latter as surely he wouldn't look so…troubled. "Henry, is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Daisy, it's from Sir William Campton. The Earl of Huntingdon has accused him of sleeping with his wife," Henry lied, rising from his chair and kissing her forehead. "I kiss you and leave you, my love. We can speak again tomorrow."

With that he left, leaving Marguerite unsure whether or not she should be worried about what is going on.

* * *

_**August 8 1511** _

"I hate politics," King Arthur declared in exasperation, much to his brother's bemusement.

"The workload or the fact that all of Europe seems to be trying to marry their children off as fast as they can?" Henry inquired, smirking as he imagined the reactions his brother's councilors would have to that statement.

His brother admired his father's councilors and aside from Dudley and Empson-and the inclusion of Henry as the president of the privy council-he had not replaced the old ones. They were so used to the old king's cool and collected demeanor, that they were still not used to Arthur's earnest and light-hearted nature. Henry would have liked to see how those stuffy old men would have reacted to his brother's statement: probably with unease and bewilderment if not outright alarm.

"The second one. Honestly the workload has been distracting me from the fact that I spent only two months in my wife's bed before we found out that she was pregnant again," Arthur said, sounding rather unhappy at the prospect of having another child especially when it would be less than a year since they had Hal. Of course it was less to do with the fact that they would soon be adding to his wonderful family and more that he couldn't help but feel wrong being all alone in his bed with no one to hold during the nights his troubled mind kept him from sleeping.

"And that's a bad thing?" Henry repeated, giving his brother a bewildered look. He wished that his wife could get pregnant as quickly as Katherine did so he might be a father before he was twenty.

"It's just I worry that-never mind," Arthur started to explain but then decided that this was not a conversation he was comfortable having with his brother. "Honestly, I think I'm just on edge with Buckingham and I keep thinking of the worst-case scenarios for practically everything and it's driving me mad."

"Well then you'd fit right in with Katherine's brother and sister," Henry jested, only to receive a dark glare from his brother for that tasteless statement. "I think you might need a break, Arthur. Perhaps a little bit of a vacation."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Arthur grumbled. As a king he had no time for any sort of break for if it was not England's affairs that needed his attention, it was a foreign matter. "Claude of France is marring the Duke of Savoy and according to Lily's letter, the council is discussing whether or not to marry her younger sister to the Prince of Navarre. However according to the Imperial Ambassador, they are thinking of marrying Maria of Austria to him instead which means that I will be out of a bride for Will unless I can arrange a marriage between Catalina of Spain and him instead."

"That might be the best idea, brother. I know it would mean William would have to wait longer until his bride was of age but at least she does not have the Hapsburg chin," Henry pointed out with a grimace.

It was on the tip of Arthur's tongue to point out that appearances didn't matter when it came to arranged marriages but he was sure that his brother's response would be a reminder that it was very easy for him to say such a thing considering to this day, he praised his wife's beauty.

"So if not Princess Maria, it will be Princess Catalina for Will and Princess Beatrice for John," Arthur said thoughtfully. "That just leaves Kathy and Issy in terms of my eldest children's future marriages, I mean."

"Oh? Are you really willing to give up your precious daughters?" Henry teased him.

"As much as I hate to admit it, if I don't start negotiating now, the most eligible princes will already be married off. If rumors can be trusted the Holy Roman Emperor is taking steps to ensure that his grandson is elected his successor and I have a feeling that he won't just be bribing the electors with money. Yet another unfortunate thing about politics," Arthur muttered, remembering how his grandmother had said that children were chess pieces, used to make their families more powerful.

"Not that I'm not enjoying your complaints," Henry said sarcastically, giving Arthur a smirk when he saw his brother's eyebrow rise at his rather insulting tone even if he had a point. "Is there a particular reason why you called me here?"

"There's been some tension between the Holy Roman Emperor and King John of Spain. Emperor Maximilian wanted his granddaughter to marry the Crown Prince of Hungry and Bohemia while his grandson married Anna of Hungry," Arthur began, knowing that this was not news to Henry. John had offered King Vladislaus a larger dowry, winning a future monarch for his eldest daughter. "The Emperor did not fight this decision however after he and Pope Julius declared peace with the King of France, he refused to allow her granddaughter Eleanor to go to Spain to be with her husband unless John breaks the betrothal between Spain and Hungry."

Eleanor and Alfonso had been engaged since they were babies and when Alfonso had turned ten, they had married by proxy and it was decreed that once Eleanor had turned twelve, she would join her husband in Spain, awaiting the day when they were both of age to consummate their marriage.

Arthur suspected that the refusal of John to keep the promise of allying with the Emperor against France and the death of Queen Margarita had hardened the older monarch's heart against his once beloved son-in-law.

"Obviously King John will not take this lying down," Henry guessed.

"He has sent his ambassador to Hungry to discuss marrying his second son to King Vladislaus' daughter, Anna and has suggested having her and her brother brought to Spain," Arthur confirmed, thinking that perhaps it was a good thing that instead of getting angry and trying to attack the Emperor with the Spanish armada, John had chosen a more passive-aggressive way of getting revenge on his father-in-law. "So not only is this a big mess but I have no doubt it will get worse. I have sent a letter to Pope Julius, suggesting that England be charged with mediating this dispute. I thought you might like to be my envoy to Emperor Maximillian, taking our ambassador and whoever else you think might be helpful with you of course."

"You would trust me with such an important task."

"Of course I do," Arthur told him with a small smile before a thoughtful look crossed his face. "You should bring Bishop Wolsey with you. After all, you say he has a cunning legal mind. I would like to see proof of that."

Neither Katherine nor Arthur thought very much of Thomas Wolsey who was merely a butcher's son and despite taking a vow of celibacy, he had a mistress and even acknowledged the bastards he conceived with her. However, Henry was fond of his old tutor and continued to press Arthur into giving Wolsey a spot on his council, insisting that his diplomatic mind was unparalleled.

Perhaps Arthur would consider his brother's recommendation if Wolsey proved his use on this envoy.

"You can count on me, Arthur. I swear that you won't regret this," Henry promised him, looking excited to be doing such an important task.

"I trust you, Henry," Arthur assured him.

If he had not been looking over his papers, he would have seen his brother's face fall and there was a flash of guilt in his eyes.

* * *

"Is it just me or have you gotten more beautiful with the passing of each day?" Arthur asked rhetorically, parchment in his hands as he strolled into his wife's room in lighter spirits than he had been when he was talking to his brother three hours ago.

"My lord, you will eventually turn me into a vain woman if you do not stop lavishing me with so many compliments," Katherine teased him as her ladies-in-waiting melted away from the room as discreetly as they possibly could. She didn't even need to order them to leave as they knew that the king preferred to have his quiet moments with his wife alone.

"That is a risk that I will have to take. In the meantime, I have written a poem for my queen to enjoy," Arthur said, holding out a piece of parchment with great flourish.

"Another masterpiece I'm sure," Katherine told him, her tone slightly teasing. Unlike his brother, Arthur did not like sharing the poems he composed, preferring that the woman he wrote them about be the only person to lay eyes on his writing.

"Once I was nothing more than a nervous child.

My deposition meek and mild.

But you gave my confidence when I was filled with dread.

I will never forget our fire time in our marriage bed.

'Marriage is thirsty work.' I did proclaim.

Boasting that I went to Spain.

That night we convinced our son.

I knew that you were the only one," Arthur recited, smiling bashfully when Katherine broke out in applause. "Do you really like it?"

"Well why wouldn't I?" Katherine inquired. "I think your poems are wonderful."

"And I think you're biased," Arthur jested as his wife pulled him into a kiss. After they pulled apart, he sat down next to her, laying a hand on hers. "I have a surprise for you my love."

"Another poem?" Katherine asked, looking just about as excited as another woman would if she was expecting expensive jewelry.

"Better. In May, we are going to visit Spain," Arthur explained, filling her in on the details of the matter between her brother and the Emperor. Considering this was a business trip, it would be rather unusual for his wife to come along especially when she was the queen and he had no doubt that with the Duke of York gone as well everyone would expect him to make her regent of England while he was away.

However, Arthur just didn't feel right visiting Spain without Katherine who he knew missed her homeland even if she loved England. Besides who better to get the stubborn King John to listen to reason than his beloved youngest sister.

Katherine's eyes lit up at the mention of visiting Spain but after a moment she frowned. "What if the Emperor views us both going to Spain as us siding with John over him," she pointed out. Of course he might think that anyway considering Arthur himself was to speak to his brother-in-law while only sending the Duke of York to the Netherlands as if he felt that because he had no family ties to the Holy Roman Emperor, he had no wish to speak to him in person. She understood why though: her brother had always made his opinion clear about womanizing men and if Henry had gone to speak to him, there no doubt that they would clash violently. "Then again, I suppose him agreeing to let a third party meddle in his affairs at all is testament that he wants this to end without war and he's willing to speak to anyone if it ends the stalemate. I just don't understand why he's acting this way."

"I think he feels that with the French princess marrying the Duke of Savoy and the Princess of Spain marrying the Prince of Hungry that he might be losing control of his territories. Emperor Maximilian has already lost Malian and Burgundy to France, he doesn't want to lose more," Arthur hypothesized. "Not to mention, the fact that he is already trying secure his grandson as the next Holy Roman Emperor despite the boy's young age tells me that he believes that he does not have a lot of time left to keep his vast empire intact."

"Then we better hope that Henry and his team can persuade him to keep his word and forgo trying to force John into breaking the marriage agreement. After all, people act more impulsively when they are running out of time," Katherine said sagely.

She prayed that it wouldn't there wouldn't be another war between her family, this time between the Holy Roman Empire and Spain.

* * *

_**August 31 1511** _

_**France** _

"When I was younger and still learning about the history of my country, I often wondered if France was everyone's enemy because it seemed that everyone wanted to attack us," Charles remarked with a mirthless chuckle. "It often seemed like England, the Holy Roman Empire and Spain had a grudge against us. And yet when they are fighting each other, it's France, they always seek help from."

"I cannot say if that is true, Your Majesty," the Spanish ambassador said, slightly uneasy as he was not sure if nineteen-year-old was making a jest or if he was truly angry. From a young age, the king had learned to school his features into impassive mask. "But the past is the past and my master wishes to make a treaty for everlasting peace between our two countries against our common foe."

"Yes, he wants to make peace now but once he has settled his argument with his father-in-law, what will stop him from breaking the treaty and trying to take the territories my country has spent countless years defending," Charles demanded, his narrowing and his tone icy. "Do not mistake my youth for naivety, Your Excellency."

"Of course not, Your Majesty, I would never think of such a thing. His Majesty King Jean has often wished that he had been as wise as you when he was your age," Diego Mendoza lied smoothly. "He does not only offer himself as an ally but also proposes that his daughter, the Infanta Catherine be the bride of your cousin Duke François of Angoulême."

Charles raised an eyebrow at this, a thoughtful look on his face. Although he still had his doubts that the hot-headed King Jean of Spain would keep his word, at the very least a heft dowry from Spain in the French royal treasury would be a soothing balm to stinging betrayal.

However, the Spanish Princess was only three and therefore it would be some time before she was old enough to marry his cousin: at least a decade if not more. This would give the wily fox plenty of time to change his mind and decide that he wanted nothing to do with France not even for his daughter's sake.

Of course Spain could always join forces with the Emperor at this very moment while the French King pondered whether or not to agree to this alliance. Not to mention, England's decision to play mediator made it quite unlikely that there would be any war at all.

Unless… King Jean was not a forgiving man, his actions with those he held responsible for his wife's death and the execution of his own father proved this. It was entirely possible, nay probable that another disagreement would come up between Spain and the Emperor and this time war would happen.

It was a gamble but a gamble that just might pay off.

"I will have to discuss this with my councilors first but when I do, we will speak of this again," he assured the ambassador solemnly before smiling slightly. "Who knows this might be the start of a new future of everlasting friendship between France and Spain."

* * *

_**Spain** _

King Vladislaus was worried that Emperor Maximiliano would take things into his own hands and would invade Hungry to take his children so he gladly sent them to Spain for their safekeeping.

"How are you liking your bridegroom, sister?" Alfonso inquired, a cheeky grin on his face. "He seems quite besotted with you. I can't imagine why you don't want to spend more time with him."

Margarita rolled her eyes. "He's five, Alfie, he's a child."

"Are your brothers and sister not children, sweet daughter?" Juan inquired, affection in his eyes as he looked at his daughter, ignoring his son compleatly.

"I am not a silly child like Prince Luis is," Alfonso snapped. He was twelve-years-old, that was nearly on the cusp of manhood. Besides Prince Luis was a weak, simple-minded boy while he was strong, athletic and smart.

"You act like a child, boy," Juan told him crossly. "And show our guests some respect."

Alfonso glared at his father, feeling that it was quite unfair that he was willing to let Margarita speak freely but it was him who had to hold his tongue. Despite being the male heir, it seemed that his father favored his older sister over him. Quite honestly, sometimes, Alfonso couldn't help but think that his father favored everyone over him.

"Father, when will my wife get here?" Alfonso asked, hoping that the reminder that he was technically married would lighten his father's mood. One look at his sister's horrified face and his father's dark scowl made him instantly regret his words.

To his surprise, Juan did not react with anger but instead, he turned to his son and spoke in a deadly calm voice.

"Whenever your grandfather chooses to stop spiting on your mother's grave," he snarled.

"He wants control of Hungry, Alfie," Margarita explained. "And he's trying to use Leonor as a way to force Father to relent."

Alfonso frowned. Why did Margarita know about this and he didn't?

Why was it always Margarita? Ever since their mother died, she was the one their father seemed to be spent the most time with. Even before their mother died, it seemed like in their father's eyes Margarita could do no wrong while Alfonso could no right.

If she got eight out of ten right on piece of homework their tutors gave her, their father would praise her and declare she was the smartest girl in the world. If Alfonso did so, their father would ask him why he had gotten two wrong.

And now it seemed that while Alfonso was in the dark about their grandfather, Margarita had known about it. He was only two years younger than her and this situation involved him too. So why would his sister be privy to this information and not him?

"Why didn't you tell me that?" he demanded, his resentment bubbling up and spilling over as he clenched his fists. "Why do you never tell me anything?"

"Watch your tone, boy!" Juan growled, standing up and towering over Alfonso.

"No! I'm the crown prince not her! I should be your favorite!" Alfonso shouted, stomping his foot before shutting his eyes to keep the angry tears at bay.

"I do not favor spoiled brats throwing tantrums over nothing," Juan shouted. "Do you know why I told your sister? Because her future is in jeopardy. If your grandfather wins, she will not be Queen of Hungry and Bohemia. No matter what happens with Leonor, you will always be the crown prince of Spain. So for Christ's sake, act like it!"

Margarita stood in-between her father and brother before their argument could escalate further.

"Father, why don't you go see how Juan, Maximiliano and Catalina are getting on with our guests," she suggested in a sweet voice.

King Juan had to know that his daughter was simply making an excuse so he would leave and let her calm down her brother but in an act that just proved how much power she had over him, he nodded and left.

"I'm not wrong," Alfonso defended himself immediately once Juan was out of earshot. "Father hates me, I know he does."

"He doesn't hate you, Alfie, he loves you. He's just showing it wrong," Margarita whispered soothingly as she embraced her little brother.

Although, Margarita knew that deep down her father did love her brother, she also knew that he treated him differently then he did towards her and their other siblings. Maybe it was because he expected more from his heir or maybe he saw some unpleasant similarities between his son and his father.

Either way, Margarita feared what might happen if any ill feeling might fester.

" _I don't understand, Mama, why did Father do it?" Margarita asked, tears rolling down her face. She had just learned of her grandfather's fate and her father's hand in it._

" _Because your grandfather challenged him and your father couldn't back down from the fight," her mother replied, not wanting to tell her daughter the full story in fear that she start hating her father for his actions._

" _But that's not right. They shouldn't have been fighting at all," Margarita cried. "Family shouldn't be fighting family. What if Alfonso challenged Father? Would he fight him?" She was terrified that her mother would say yes._

_The Queen of Spain had a faraway look in her eyes when she spoke again._

" _No he wouldn't and that's why I pray that Alfonso and your father will never grow to hate each other like your father and grandfather," she whispered._

If history repeated itself, neither she nor her mother would be able to intervene. Margarita shivered at that horrible thought and she held her crying brother closer. She prayed it wouldn't come to that.

* * *

_**Portugal** _

Undisturbed by the foreign affairs of its neighboring countries, the royal court of Portugal was dealing with its own scandal: Crown Prince Miguel had just been caught trying to put on a dress.

It was Mary and Isabel who discovered him along with Isabel's duenna. While the two girls were only surprised and little embarrassed, the duenna was horrified and she immediately got the king involved.

Upon being redressed into his regular clothes, Miguel was sent to see his father.

"Come on hurry before they notice," Isabel hissed, dragging Mary into a secret passageway that allowed them to spy on the King Manuel's talk with his son. "I want to hear what's going on."

Although Mary could guess exactly what was happening, she dutifully followed her friend, feeling sorry for her groom-to-be.

"I just wanted to see how the fabric felt," Miguel protested. "See if it was different for girls."

"I don't care how you felt! Homosexuality is a sin punishable by death and I will not have my son partake in any sort of effeminate behavior!" King Manuel shouted, sounding angrier than he had ever been. "If I ever catch doing something that vile ever again, I will whip you myself!"

"Papa, no, I didn't mean to do it. It was a mistake," Miguel cried, terrified by his normally kind father's furious threats.

"Go to your bedchambers for the rest of the day and I want you to pray to God for forgiveness for your foolish actions," Manuel snarled, storming out of the room, leaving his son behind.

Once they were sure he was gone, Isabel ran out of the room and hugged her older half-brother tightly.

"It's gonna be okay, Miguel, we know it was just a mistake," Isabell whispered soothingly, sounding distressed. "Papa knows it too. He's just angry."

Mary studied Miguel's face as she thought about how angry King Manuel was. It was almost ridiculous for him to be so upset when his son had only been trying on a dress once. It was almost as thought this wasn't the first time.

Her eyes met Miguel's and she could see that her hunch was right.

"It felt nice," he whispered, ashamed of his own words and terrified that his father might act on his threat. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Mary couldn't take the self-loathing edge in his voice and she threw her arms around both him and his sister.

"It's going to be okay. You're safe with us," she promised.

She knew homosexuality was a sin. But she could not believe that God would punish a sweet and innocent thirteen-year-old boy like Miguel.

* * *

_**Scotland** _

Her nephew was nine-years-old today. Margaret wondered if he even remembered her or if like everyone else, he had forgotten about her.

Her sister-in-law had given birth to two sons in her first three years of marriage and that was out of six children in almost a decade. Margaret on the other hand had given birth to two babies and one stillborn during her time as queen.

Thankfully James was headed to his fifth birthday still growing strong but little Prince Arthur had died today only a month away from his second birthday.

She held her little son close, unwilling to let the doctor take him from her arms. She would not cry. She refused to cry.

"Margaret." Her husband's voice was gentle as he spoke to her, sitting down by the rocking chair she was in.

"No, I won't let him go!" Margaret exclaimed, not even looking at him but instead staring down at the prince who never got to live.

"There is nothing more we can do, sweetheart, he's gone," King James said to her in a voice he might have used to coax a small child. Of course he was almost twenty-years-older than her so perhaps he felt his condescending tone was justified. His wife did not agree. But when she lashed out, it was not her husband that she spoke of.

"Why is she so lucky that she gets to keep all of her children but I don't!" Margaret shouted, feeling ridiculously envious of her sister-in-law. "Why must my boy die but hers live?"

There was so much James could say to that. He could scold her for wishing death on innocent children for wishing an innocent woman who would express nothing but sorrow once she learned of her nephew's death lose her children.

But he knew that Margaret was not hating Katherine for being luckier but instead she was hating herself, blaming herself for losing their two children.

He took her chin in his hand and moved her face so she was looking for her.

"It is no one fault, Margaret, no one's fault at all. Besides what will you do? Mourn over Prince Arthur for the rest of your days, ignoring our son who still lives. Who has been asking for his mother all day?" James asked, stretching the truth as little James had not actually asked for his mother for than once but he had no doubt that his son would take comfort in his mother just as much as she would in him.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Margaret trailed off, unsure how to put it into words how she was feeling.

But she knew James was right. She was being ridiculous. They had James and they would continue trying for more children. She just prayed that the next baby would live and she wouldn't go through this heartbreak again.

She gave the baby, who she named after her favorite brother, one last kiss on the forehead before giving him to the royal physician. She then took her husband's arm and walked out of the nursery, struggling not let the tears escape her eyes.

* * *

_**England** _

"Nine-years-old and yet he's as taller than his uncle, the Duke of Somerset."

"He's the spitting image of his father. His Majesty was tall for his age too."

When the Prince of Wales rounded the corner, the courters stopped talking about him and instead they bowed and curtsied when he passed them.

William stopped walking when he saw a familiar face standing next to a boy and a girl who looked too similar to her to be anything but her siblings.

"Lady Anne Boleyn, it's good to see you again," he greeted her with a smile.

"Prince William, happy birthday," Anne said politely, curtsying for a second time. Her words and actions were formal but there was some mischief in her eyes as she glanced at the older girl beside her who looked rather shocked.

Will guessed that Anne had told her sister and brother of how she had met the Prince of Wales but they must not have believed her.

"My Aunt Daisy said she was quite impressed with your grasp of the French language," Will told her, causing Anne to blush as she was surprised that the Duchess of York would compliment her. "I think that if my Great-Grandmother is not careful, she might steal you away."

This prompted titers from the courtiers who were listening to the conversation between the children. William frowned slightly, feeling rather annoyed that he could not talk to his friends without people hanging off his every word.

"Will, what are you trying to do? Do you want to get my wife in trouble?" Henry admonished his nephew in mock-horror as he walked up to him, throwing his arm around William. "My Lord and Lady Boleyn, I think that in his rush to speak to your daughter, my nephew forgot to ask for introductions to be made."

William flushed, realizing that he should have at the very least asked Anne to introduce her siblings if not her parents. But for some reason when he saw Anne, it was like everyone else was nothing more than unimportant blurs.

"This is my father, Sir Thomas Boleyn, my mother Elizabeth, my older sister Mary and my litter brother George," Anne introduced assuming that was what the Duke of York was hinting at.

"We wish you a very happy birthday, Your Highness," Thomas said, giving his daughter a proud smile, pleased that she had befriended the Prince of Wales.

"Later Sir Thomas, I shall like to have a word with you about your children's education as my wife has taken a shine to your daughter," Henry informed him, giving the knight a meaningful look so he would understand what he really wanted to discuss with him.

Thomas Boleyn nodded, understanding the hidden meaning. He knew that next to Queen Katherine, Prince Henry was the one person the King trusted the most. He wondered if that trust was completely merited.

* * *

_**December 28 1511** _

As she knew that her granddaughter-in-law would give birth any day now, Lady Margaret Beaufort decided she better have a discussion with her grandson about his planned trip to Spain.

There was absolutely no reason why a king would play mediator instead of simply sending someone as his proxy. Even if one were to argue that if a royal duke was sent to the Emperor then it would be insulting not to send someone who was also of the same caliber to speak with King John, Henry had a little more diplomatic experience than the Duke of Somerset did.

The was only one reason for this strange situation and she knew very well that it did not come from a professional view but a wish to escape his duties as king to spend time with his wife in her homeland.

She would give him credit where credit was do that he was sending experienced diplomats with Henry but that did not excuse his immaturity. He was a twenty-four-year-old king not a child. He could not just up and leave his responsibilities in England especially not now.

The Duke of Buckingham had been exchanging letters with the de la Pole brothers for months now, formatting a plan to escape the tower and weeks earlier, he had informed them that he had a new ally.

At first the new ally was not mentioned by name and there were only a few hints to his identity. Apparently he had been approached by Buckingham during the court's trip to France but only agreed to the arrangement in the end of February. When she learned this, she had asked her spy if there had been any notable visitors to the Buckingham household during that time period. She was shocked with what her had told her.

Elizabeth had been convinced that there had to be some mistake and Margaret had been unwilling to believe it either. But then two days ago, she had intercepted a letter that spelled out the name of the co-conspirator literally and there could be no more denying it.

That was the second reason she felt she had to speak to Arthur now; she needed to tell him about Buckingham's plot. She just wished that she could save her grandson from himself.

"Grandmother, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Arthur asked, a hint of smugness in his voice as if he had been waiting a long time for her to seek an audience with him.

"I want to speak to you about this trip you're planning. For goodness sake, Arthur, your country needs you and you're thinking of running off to Spain with your wife, acting like a child like a child skipping their lessons for some playtime," Margaret scolded him, annoyed by the fact that already he seemed to be joking around despite the seriousness of his plans.

"Did it ever occur to you that the reason I'm going to Spain with the Queen is because while King John might ignore any other diplomatic envoy, he won't ignore his own sister. Say what you will about him, he has a great deal of respect for Katherine and would be more willing to listen to her," Arthur snapped, angered by the fact that she thought so little of him that he was using his job as mediator as an excuse to slack off from his duties.

Of course he was hoping to visit a favorite place of Katherine's, where she grew up perhaps but he had every intention of asking King John to join them in hopes that childhood memories would soften his resolve.

Not that his grandmother had any right to question his conduct regardless.

"Now is not a good time to going on a trip anyway. Not with-" Margaret began.

"Buckingham? The Earl of Surrey was kind enough to inform about the Duke's plans of treason. How long have you known, Grandmother?" Arthur demanded. He felt far too irritated to enjoy his grandmother's shocked face. "According to Sir Thomas, it has been over a year since you found out. I am your king and master, you should have told me the minute you even thought someone was speaking treason!"

Technically he should be furious that his mother also kept this from him but with her, he knew she hadn't told him because she didn't want to upset him unless she knew for sure. However it was obvious that his grandmother still saw him as boy who couldn't be allowed to protect his own crown and family.

"Forgive me but I thought it would be prudent to gather evidence first as we could not be sure who else was involved," Margaret said, her tone surprisingly soft.

He didn't know. He couldn't know because if he had found out, her normally meek grandson would have torn _him_ to pieces.

The Earl of Surrey and Sir Thomas must not be privy to everything Buckingham did which made her even more glad that she had been intercepting his letters.

"What do you mean?" Arthur demanded, startled by the almost devastated look in her eyes. "I know that the de la Poles are involved. The Earl of Surrey, his son and Sir Thomas are merely spying for us so who else could there be?"

"Arthur, did you ever see Buckingham talking to Henry while you were in France?"


	8. Brothers to the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstanding are cleared up just as Queen Katherine gives birth to her fifth baby.

_**December 28 1511** _

No. Arthur refused to believe it. Henry would never betray him. Even at his worst, his brother was loyal to him. He couldn’t possibly be working with Buckingham and the De La Pole brothers. It wasn’t in his nature to betray his own flesh and blood as pig-headed and hot-tempered as he could be.

“I can assure you, Arthur, your mother and I didn’t want to believe it either but my spy in the Duke’s household confirmed that Henry met with Buckingham in secret. Worse, Buckingham named him as his ally in his letters,” Margaret explained, her voice sympathetic as she understood what a blow this was to their entire family. She could not believe that her favorite grandson was spitting on his father’s grave like this but it seemed as though Henry was breaking the promise he had made to his father when the old king was on his deathbed.

While his grandmother grieved what she assumed were irrefutable facts that the Duke of York was in fact a traitor, the King came to a startling realization.

_Buckingham’s letters. The letters Boleyn had told Arthur that his grandmother was monitoring: information that Henry was privy to._

Arthur actually laughed in relief, causing Lady Margaret to stare at him in concern, wondering if such a nasty shock had caused him to lose his mind.

“After the Earl of Surrey and his son came to see him, I told Henry what was going on and have been keeping him briefed of the situation from then on. He knew you were monitoring Buckingham, Grandmother,” Arthur pointed out. “Both his letters and his household. If he truly was a traitor, he would have informed Buckingham of not only your spy but also of Surrey and Boleyn’s duplicity.”

Lady Margaret Beoufort never looked so relieved in her life. “Thanks be to God,” she breathed. She was not a weak woman but she was fairly certain that if Henry was executed for treason she would follow him to the grave soon after.

“So now that you understand that I know everything, you can be on your way and hopefully this entire travesty will be over before Katherine and I go to Spain,” Arthur decided, a strained smile on his face.

“You know nothing about his talks with Buckingham, do you?” Margaret guessed, not even fooled by her grandson’s attempt to play things off as perfectly innocent for a second. He might have known more then he let on but it was clear that he had no idea that Henry had met with the duke.

“No but I intend to find out what happened and why he kept it from me,” Arthur replied firmly.

Henry had not betrayed him. However his brother was keeping something from him and it unnerved Arthur that the Duke of York would not mention that the Duke of Buckingham counted him as an ally especially if it had happened as early as their trip to France.

Arthur could guess when the Duke of Buckingham had met with his brother: sometime after he had scolded Henry when he chose to make a speculate at the feast. Despite being besotted with his new wife and being happy for his sister getting married, Henry had been quite upset with Arthur in the days after, something he had not been able to completely conceal.

Perhaps Henry had been drunk when he was approached by Edward Stafford and was eager to vent about his older brother who had treated him like a child---of course failing to realize that he was acting like a child and Arthur had punished him accordingly. Buckingham probably had been sympathetic and perhaps they had mocked the King, laughing at what they viewed as meek boy who preferred acting like a weak woman with no stomach for the glory of war.

Perhaps it had gone further than jokes at his expense. Perhaps Buckingham had declared at he believed that Arthur and his half-Spanish sons would doom England and it would be better if there was a stronger king on the throne. Perhaps Henry had agreed. After all, he was newly married and he had always thought he would be a better king than Arthur--- he had never made a secret of that fact.

Perhaps he had eagerly agreed to Buckingham’s plan, only to come to regret it later or maybe---

_No! I shall not assume the worst. I will let Henry explain himself and then decide what to do._

With that thought in mind, Arthur dismissed his grandmother, making sure she knew that she was to bring all further messages her spies collected straight to him.

“I’ll be sure to tell your mother the good news about Henry,” Margaret informed him.

“Wonderful and while you’re talking to her, would you mind telling her that the next time you find a viper in my court, please have the courtesy to tell me,” Arthur snapped. After all, Henry was not the only family member who failed to tell him something that concerned not only him but his children as well.

He would not forget that it had taken his grandmother and mother longer than a year to tell him of the danger to his family.

* * *

 

_“Richard did not kill my brothers,” Elizabeth said, an edge of steel in her soft voice. She refused to believe otherwise. “It just doesn’t make any sense. he made me and my siblings bastards so he had no reason to kill his nephews. He loved all of us even if his hatred of my mother blinded him.”_

_“Do you really think it was as simple as him hating your mother?” Henry asked, knowing full well that if she thought her uncle was innocent then she must suspect her husband and the father of her unborn child to be the mastermind behind the disappearance of the Princes in the Tower. He was certain that accusation would come later. “He was an ambitious man, Lizzie, family ties or not, your brothers stood in his way to the throne even as bastards.”_

_“Oh he was ambitious,” Elizabeth agreed. “But even if you’re right and family ties would not stop him, he had to know that if he killed them, he would be the likeliest suspect and with those rumors about marrying me already a staining his reputation, I doubt that he would make it worse.”_

_“So in other words, you think that someone else orchestrated your brothers’ deaths in order to frame Richard, making his claim to the throne of England even stronger,” Henry baited, wanting her to say outright what she thought of him._

_“If that was true, surely you would not let the de la Poles live,” Elizabeth pointed out shrewdly. She did not mention the Earl of Warrick who despite his young age was locked up in the Tower simply because he the last male heir of Plantagenets. But as long as he didn’t disappear mysteriously, his imprisonment would not make her fear that she was married to her brothers’ murderer. “I think that someone, either yours or my uncle’s ally, decided to take the incentive and dispose of my brothers, believing they were doing the true King a favor.”_

_Henry raised an eyebrow at her but he said nothing. And yet Elizabeth knew what he was thinking: that she was trying too hard to absolve her uncle and her husband of the murder of the two missing princes._

_However, Elizabeth refused to believe otherwise because she couldn’t fathom that her dear uncle nor the man that she loved would kill two innocent and defenseless boys who were not even on the cusp of manhood. Perhaps she was naive but she was certain that she would die from a broken heart f she ever found out that someone she loved was capable of harming her family.  
_

* * *

  
“Henry, tell me what happened,” the dowager queen implored her son, a gentle plea in her voice. She did not elaborate and merely waited for his response.

The Duke of York had known that it would be inevitable that Stafford would mention him in one the letters he thought would only be seen by the De La Poles. He expected that either his grandmother would confront him or Arthur would storm into his chambers, demanding to know what his brother had done.

He had prepared for Lady Margaret’s scrutiny and Arthur’s anger but seeing the doleful expression on his mother’s face caused much more pain than he would like to admit. His mother looked as though she feared that he would confirm that he had betrayed his family, breaking her heart in the process.

Not wanting to see the disappointment on his mother’s face as he told her about his conversation with Buckingham and the events afterwards, Henry looked outside at the royal gardens, picturing his nephews and nieces playing, innocently unaware of the bad men who conspired against their father.

“It was just a drunken conversation that I didn’t even remember until Buckingham wrote to me in March,” Henry informed her, remembering how angry he had been when just a few days after his son’s death, he received a message from the man he knew was plotting against his brother.

His anger quickly turned into horror when Buckingham brought up that night in France when he was still angry at his brother making him feel like a child when all he wanted to do was defend England’s honor.

_“Good God, that is the problem with Arthur. He has no drive to defend England in any way. He is too softhearted. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if some foreign monarch were to invade our country. Would Arthur even bother fighting them or would he kneel at their feet and hand his crown over?”_

_“If you were the King, Your Highness, I have no doubt that you would lead us to glorious battle, conquering France and then that pompous Duke of Angoulême would have to bow to you.”_

  
_“King Henry the Eighth and Queen Marguerite does have a nice ring to it.”_

At first, he had thought that it was ridicules that Buckingham would take his drunken rambling seriously and he threw the letter in the fire, deciding to just ignore the man who would be arrested for treason soon enough.

But after a sleepless night, Henry began to worry that his foolish words might just be his undoing. Either under questing or at his trial, Buckingham would reveal the conversation he had with the Duke of York, causing a cloud of suspicion to forever follow him, his wife and their children for the rest of their days.

Of course, he could easily deny Buckingham’s accusation, claim that this so-called conversation was nothing more than a fabrication made up by a desperate traitor eager to wound the Tudor family after failing to usurp them.

Everyone would surely take his word over a convicted traitor--- everyone but his brother. Arthur would figure out that Buckingham was telling the truth. While Arthur was a trusting man who loved his siblings, he was not blind to their faults. He would remember the argument he had with Henry over “defending England’s honor”, and it would lead him to suspect that there was a grain of truth in Buckingham’s claims.

If Henry continued to deny it, it would only give Arthur more reason to be suspicious, believing that his brother truly meant the things he said. Although, he might choose not to interrogate Henry, the trust and faith the red-haired monarch had in his younger brother would be shattered.

Unsure what to do, Henry turned to the one man he could trust to not only guide him but who also wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone even if he wanted to.

* * *

_“If I tell the truth, I guarantee that everyone from the nobles to the commons will forever think of me as another Yorkist enemy ready to usurp the throne and start the War of Roses anew,” Henry explained. If the situation had not been so dire, he might have laughed at the irony that he was the Duke of York just as his maternal great-grandfather, grandfather and uncle were. “However, Arthur will know the truth. Although, I know my brother well enough to know that he will never kill me, he would not trust me ever again especially when it comes to his children.”_

_The very idea of harming his nephews and nieces made Henry sick to his stomach._

_“Your Highness, I fear that you might be right that the Duke of Buckingham will no doubt try to smear your name when he is brought to answer for his actions but if you were to appear to have been stringing him along acting as a double agent as Lord Howard and Sir Boleyn are doing, then he will not be able to twist your words for it will seem as though you were tricking him from the very beginning,” Wolsey told him with a pensive look on his face._

_“Arthur will see right through that.” After all, if Henry had known about Buckingham’s treason why had he acted as though he knew nothing when his brother had brought him the news._

_“True but if he sees your dedication in helping him trap Buckingham and the Suffolk brothers, I am certain, he will understand that you are loyal to him,” Wolsey finished calmly._

_Henry was not a patient man and Wolsey had no doubt that if he had been the King Buckingham and the de la Pole brothers were conspiring against him, he wouldn’t wait for concrete evidence but instead he would have sent the four traitors to the block with nothing more than a show of a trial._

_By doing this the way Arthur wanted, making sure that they had concrete evidence before they condemned these men, Henry could make it clear that while he didn’t always agree with his brother, he was loyal to his king._

* * *

“You should have told me,” Arthur said sternly after hearing his brother’s explanation. After telling his mother the truth, she had convinced the Duke of York to go straight to the King’s audience chamber.

“I was ashamed and I felt I needed to make it up to you.”

“Forgive me if I don’t give a damn about how you were feeling. This is not a fucking game for you to play hero!” Arthur roared, leaping to his feet. He felt furious that his brother, now a man of twenty, would act so foolishly. Did he care that if he was discovered, that an enemy of England might escape their grasp, free to try again in a new country? “What if he found out that you were deceiving him! What if you had gotten drunk and let it slip that I knew about his treason! He would have either killed you so he could make his escape or even held you as a hostage to force me to grant him safe passage out of England.”

Henry stared at the seething monarch with his mouth hanging open. Never in his life had he ever heard his brother curse. Even the rare moments when Arthur lost his temper, he never cursed.

It took the Duke of York a few moments to regain the use of his tongue.

“It wasn’t just about you. If my conversation with Buckingham was ever leaked, any son I have with Daisy would be looked at as a potential rival to your son. I know that you know that what I said was nothing more than me being drunk and angry but not everyone will see it that way and I don’t want my family to suffer for my words,” Henry explained earnestly.

At once Arthur’s expression softened and he let out a heavy sigh.

“You should have told me,” he repeated himself.

“I know.”

“So the Duke of Suffolk is under the impression that he is to be King but I doubt Buckingham told you that,” Arthur remarked, thinking that there was one more bit of confusion that needed to be cleared up.

“Buckingham has actually suggested that after we dispose of you, I act as regent for William,” Henry told him, scowling darkly. “At first I thought he just assumed that I wouldn’t want to hurt my nephews. But considering what Boleyn has said about his view of my character, I have a feeling that after you are gone, Will and his brothers would have disappeared, leaving their uncle as the undisputed monarch which seems quite familiar, doesn’t it?”

“By God, he’s trying to recreate history!” Arthur exclaimed, thunderstruck by the Duke’s gall. He began to pace around the room. “I have had enough of this cloak and dagger nonsense. I want everything out in the open. The de la Poles have encouraged Buckingham’s treason and your words against him will be enough to convict him as well. It’s time to end this.”

“I can invite him to my estates, we can capture him there,” Henry suggested.

“Oh, am I to be involved this time? Are you sure that you wouldn't rather capturing him yourself? In fact why don’t we save the expense and hassle and just let you be the executioner,” Arthur ranted, not even looking at Henry as he continued to pace. “That is certainly a good way to protect your reputation, is it not? I’m sure you’d be seen as a hero instead of a child who stupidly got himself caught up in a plot of treason.”

Henry clenched his fists, his blood boiling at his brother’s jeers.

“I understand it was wrong on me to say those things about you---” he began, struggling to keep his voice calm so he wouldn’t escalate things further.

“Do you think I care about something you said when you were drunk and angry?” Arthur laughed sardonically with an incredulous look on his face. “I have always known that you think that you would make a better king. You always said you were stronger, smarter, handsomer and more athletic than I. I am shocked that you weren’t declaring me a coward and a pathetic king the night I scolded you for your atrocious behavior and instead waited to rant later.”

  
Again all Henry could do was stare at his brother in shock. The anger he had felt moments before was replaced with horror at Arthur’s statement.

Heavens knew that if their father had ever heard someone was disrespecting him so blatantly, he would have banished them from court permanently or had them spend a few days locked up until they learnt some manners. Furthermore, if Arthur and his positions were switched, Henry would not have let his younger brother get away with insulting him. He wouldn’t have given him a place on his council for one thing. And if Arthur had continued to insult him, Henry would have either forced him to join the church or challenged him to duel to see if he could back up his bravado.

And yet, Arthur seemed to know all about Henry’s resentment to the point where he didn’t seem to be angry about something his brother had said when he was drunk. Worse, he apparently wasn’t even surprised that the Duke of York was mocking him at all only that it had taken him so long.

“Arthur, I swear I didn’t mean it. I never meant it,” Henry promised, his shock turning into guilt.

“If I thought you meant it, Henry, we would be having a very different conversation,” Arthur remarked rather darkly. “I’m not angry at what you said. I’m angry that you kept things from me. You are the only one of my advisors who I can count on to be honest with me at all times. Rude, disrespectful, pigheaded but honest.”

* * *

Once his meeting with Arthur was concluded, Henry returned to his apartments where his wife was waiting for him. Still feeling a little bit shaken from the discussion with his brother, Henry told her everything.

  
“God above, Daisy, I do not deserve him,” Henry declared. “I argue with him, challenge his authority sometimes in public and yet he trusts me competently and even seeks my advice. Although, I loathe to admit it, he is a better king than I could ever be.”

“Nonsense, you and your brother might be as different as day and night but there is nothing to say that you wouldn’t have been a good king as he is. You would have just been a different kind of monarch than him,” Marguerite assured him. “You are a passionate man who enjoys spending your money on extravagant parties and I am pleased to be the Duchess of York, your loving wife.”

“Oh? Even though I act like a fool,” Henry teased her.

“Are all men not fools at one time or another?” Marguerite countered, happy to get his mind off of what was troubling him.

“Usually around an enticing woman,” Henry laughed.

“Let me make you smile once again and we can put all of this behind us,” Marguerite suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck and trailing kisses along his jaw to his shoulder.

“It’s not over yet but it will be soon,” Henry murmured as he undid her laces.

When telling his brother that he was aware of all of the grievances he had, Arthur had not mentioned the Duke of York’s childish wish that he was the one who got to marry that pretty Spanish princess. Granted, he had stopped lusting after her once she had his nephew but it was something he had greatly resented his brother for.

However now, Henry laughed at his younger self for he had no idea that while Katherine of Aragon was still a lovely woman, she could not match Marguerite de Angoulême who shared her husband’s love for all of his pastimes. She was his dance partner, his leading lady whenever they performed together, his favorite hunting companion and supporter for whatever sport he played.

He was lucky to have a forgiving and loving brother like Arthur but he was even more lucky to have wife like his vivacious Daisy.

* * *

   
_**December 29 1511**_

 

After this entire business with his brother and grandmother, Arthur had eaten a little supper before going to bed early, feeling exhausted.

The next thing he knew was someone was calling his name, pleading for him to awake up.

“Your Majesty, wake up. It’s the Queen.”

“What happened? Was she attacked?” Arthur demanded, thinking it was an emergency and Katherine was in terrible danger.

“No, she’s in labor,” the groom explained, sounding sheepish as if it was his fault that the king had jumped to the worst conclusion.

“Oh, well that’s okay then,” Arthur said with a trace of embarrassment. He and the groomsman looked at each rather awkwardly before the red-haired monarch realized the poor man was waiting for him to give an order. “Fetch my doublet and a basin. I want to look my best when I met a new member of royalty,” he jested, trying to lighten the mood.

He would have one last discussion with his grandmother, Henry, the Earl of Surrey and Sir Boleyn (not at the same time though), about Edward Stafford, Edmund, William and Richard De La Pole before arresting Stafford to make sure everyone was finally on the same page and that there were no more surprise conspirators.

Then he would have all four traitors be sent to the block and this whole ordeal would be over. Afterwards, he would not be on edge all the time, constantly fearing that someone was out to harm his family.

* * *

Katherine was unaware of what was going on with the Duke of York or that her husband had decreed that the traitors were soon to be dealt with but Buckingham and the de la Poles were in her thoughts as she pushed her newborn child into the world.

If this child turned out to be a son, it would be further proof that the Tudors had God’s favor. She would not be disappointed if she had a princess instead; with Will, John and Hal, a princess would be welcome as long as she was healthy. However, she was aware that four princes would make it hard for her husband’s detractors to declare that he was a poor king. But then again, all her pregnancies had given fruit to strong babies so how could they say otherwise.

After all, England was thriving and so was the royal family. There was nothing to suggest that God was displeased with them. Arthur was a clever man who saw that there was more money to be made in trade and exploration than wars. He was a kind and just king with three healthy sons.

Even if Buckingham proved to be successful at his plot to free the de la Poles, Katherine was certain that no one in England would fight for him instead of against him. It was doomed from the start and yet that madman still thought he stood a chance.

Katherine bit her lip as another contraction rippled through her body. Luckily it was a quick birth this time, although it was no less painful than the last five times she had been in labor.

“It’s a precious little princess, Your Majesty,” the midwife declared.

“Is she healthy?” Katherine demanded, half-afraid that she had tempted fate by bragging--- albeit in her thoughts--- about how strong her children were.

“I would say so, Your Majesty, just remarkably quiet.”

The queen sighed in relief before extending her arms in a silent command for the midwife to hand her daughter. The new princess was barely in her arms when her husband strolled into her bedchambers.

  
“So I hear that we have an Elizabeth instead of an Edmund or an Edward,” Arthur teased, kissing her on the top of her head. Then he frowned slightly, realizing that no matter what name he called his name, they would share the name of a traitor who would be executed in a few months.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Katherine whispered, to busy studying her daughter’s face, committing every feature to memory to notice her husband’s dark mood.

Arthur chuckled as he stroked the Princess Elizabeth’s face.

_Don’t you worry, my darling girl. Those bad men who think they can dispose of your brothers will be taken care of and you and your sisters will never be bastardized like your grandmother once was. I will always protect you._

He just prayed that that was a promise he would be able to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter was to show that for all his bluster, Henry is a loyal to his brother. He might hate standing in Arthur's shadow and do things that make Arthur angry but when it comes down to it, Henry is his brother's man through and through.  
> I hope to focus on Edmund in later chapters but right now he's too young.  
> Oh and little Elizabeth (suggestion for nickname so not to confuse her with her aunt and future cousin) is the second to last daughter of Arthur and Katherine, three guesses who the last daughter is and the first two don't count.


	9. Thinking too Much, Thinking too Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Katherine go to Spain while Marguerite and Henry go to Austria. Katherine tries to help her brother. Henry does two impulsive things, one that goes well and the other does not. Miguel and Mary take the next step in their marriage. Elisabeth deals with an unruly lady-in-waiting, perhaps for the wrong reason and takes control when her husband's workaholic tendencies interferes with their relationship.

**_April 15 1512_ **

****

Maundy Thursday was perhaps one of Arthur’s favorite days. He enjoyed being able to sit down and wash the feet of London’s beggars (one beggar for each year of his life). It made him feel humble as he washed their feet, talking to them casually, giving them two crowns each and giving each of them a blanket lovingly stitched by his talented wife and her ladies.

 

On this Maundy Thursday, he had twenty-five men whose feet he was washing. Unfortunately he could hardly concentrate as he was distracted by thoughts of the four men who were due to die at the end of the month.  

 

He had never signed death warrants before and perhaps that was why he delayed the trials until last month, hoping that someone would advocate mercy or maybe one of the men would beg for forgiveness and he could pardon them.

 

But deep down, Arthur knew that even if that were to happen, he could not afford to pardon any of them. Their claim to his throne was too great to let them live. They had to die and Arthur would have to kill them even if it wasn’t by his own hand.

 

Thankfully today, he could focus on other things and tomorrow, he would pray for the men’s souls. But afterwards, he would sign the death warrants and he would send for an executioner, riding England of the four dangers to his dynasty.

 

“Bless you, Your Majesty,” the beggar with newly washed feet proclaimed as Katherine handed him a blanket.

 

Arthur began to wash the feet of the next beggar, turning his head to beam at his wife.

 

While he knew that Buckingham could not be a king like him, he was absolutely certain that Buckingham’s wife could not be as generous and kind as the queen he had by his side.

* * *

 

The day went on and Arthur finally stopped smiling when he and Katherine were alone in her bedchamber.

 

“It is ridiculous. I am ridiculous. These men are traitors, Katherine, who would gladly spill my blood if their plot had gone the way they wanted,” Arthur ranted. “So why should I feel guilty about killing them? Perhaps Grandmother is right that I am a weak king.” 

 

“No, you are kind and merciful. The fact that you can feel pity towards men who betrayed you is an honorable quality,” Katherine assured him. “Besides you know what your duty is and I have no doubt that you will always do what is right.” 

 

“What is right is killing the father of young children, slaughtering my own flesh and blood,” Arthur said with a sigh. “I just keep thinking maybe I’m being too harsh or maybe I brought this on myself.” 

 

“I think that’s your worst quality, mi amour, you doubt yourself,” Katherine remarked, putting her arms around his neck. “You are a good king, Arthur. A good father and a good husband. Just because you feel pity for traitors, doesn’t make you weak. Just don’t let your sorrow turn into doubt. You must trust yourself.”  
  
  
“You are the wisest woman of them all, my love,” Arthur murmured, patting her hand before kissing her. “Thank you for being here for me.”  
  
  
“Well you are in my bed,” Katherine teased him. “Besides you know that I shall be here whenever you need me.”

 

Arthur suddenly realized that he had been talking about things that concerned him, forgetting that in a few weeks they would be seeing her older brother again. Considering all that had transpired in Spain since Katherine left, it was rather uncaring of him to be so focused on his own feelings.

 

“I hope you know that I am her for you, Cata. How are you feeling about seeing your brother again?” Arthur inquired.

 

Katherine frowned, knowing precisely what he was talking about.

 

“I refuse to think about it. My sisters have not forgiven him and with his beloved wife dead, he does not need me to remind him of what happened to our father,” Katherine explained. “I shall act as if nothing has changed between us.”  
  
  
“I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just thought you might like to talk about it,” Arthur said apologetically as Katherine turned away from him, her eyes downcast.

 

“It’s not your fault, Arthur. I feel I must keep my emotions locked up tight so I may be the type of woman my mother was. Besides if I were to think about it, I fear that I would never be able to look John in the eyes.”

 

“You never have to hide anything for me. I’m not saying you have to talk to me about anything that you don’t want to. But you know that you can tell me anything, don’t you?” Arthur inquired, taking her chin in his hand and drawing her face towards him. “Never hesitate to tell me your true feelings.”

 

“I never doubted that I could,” Katherine assured him, stroking his cheek. “But I do not like talking of such unpleasantness and instead I wish to focus on the good things like seeing my homeland once again.”

  
“As you wish,” Arthur conceded, his expression still had a lingering concern but he decided not to push the issue. “Why don’t you tell me about where you grew up?”

While the queen was not sure whether he had forgotten that she had already told him when they were still at Ludlow or if he simply was just humoring her, she eagerly described every detail of the castle she had spent her childhood in, recalling the trouble Joanna and John would get into and how they often dragged her and Maria along with them. 

* * *

 

**_April 25 1512_ **

****

“My Lord Lisle, it is good to see you,” Henry greeted his old friend, deciding to use the new title Charles was getting once he married Lady Elizabeth Grey. “How are my goddaughters?”

  
  
“Better,” Charles replied, pleased to hear his new title even if it wasn’t quite his yet. Although he hoped to earn a title as Sir Thomas Boleyn, the new Viscount of Rochford did, he was pleased that once the heiress of the late Lord Lisle was of age, he could finally stop being simply Sir Charles Brandon, a virtual nobody. At the present time, he was only known as the favorite of the Duke of York and the son of the man who died protecting the late King Henry. “They are too young to understand to even remember their mother so I hope that despite being only a few years older than my oldest, Lady Elizabeth will be a good mother to them.”

 

“I’m sure she will be and in time she will be your wife in truth,” Henry assured him. “But in the meantime, I hope you will reconsider joining my entourage when I meet with the Emperor.”  
  
  
“As much as I would love too, I fear you will get no work done if I were to come with you,” Charles jested. “I have been told that I am a bad influence.”

 

“Pshaw! Who said such nonsense? If anything I fear I am a bad influence on you,” Henry laughed, clapping Charles on the back.

 

“If that is true than I am thankful because I don’t think I would half as fun if you didn’t convince me,” Charles told him with a grin. “But alas, I cannot leave my girls unattended for such a long period of time. I’m sure your wife will be pleased to step into my shoes if you are looking for a drinking competition.” He threw a wink at the Duchess of York as he spoke.  
  
  
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were insulting me, good sir,” Marguerite remarked with a mock-scowl that she could barely keep from turning into a smile. “Am I not a lady?”  
  
  
“One of the finest, Your Grace,” Charles assured her.  “In fact I must say that I can only hope that my new wife will be as lovely as you are.”

 

“Be careful, Charles, or I might think you were flirting with my wife,” Henry admonished playfully, wrapping a possessive arm around Marguerite even though he knew even if his friend was lusting after his wife, he would never be so stupid to do it in Henry’s presence.

 

“Oh come now, my love, we are like brother and sister. Lord Lisle reminds me so much of Francis,” Marguerite assured him before Charles could speak and no doubt put his foot further in his mouth.

  
  
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to insult me, Madam,” Charles quipped, causing Henry to guffaw.

 

Marguerite shook her head in exasperation but before she could retort, she saw the steward standing by the doorway, looking as though he wanted to say something but he didn’t dare interrupt them.

 

Because Henry and she would not be back in time for his birthday, Marguerite had wanted to be sure that the present she got for him would be on display once they returned home and she guessed that the steward had news from the artist whether or not the portrait she had commissioned was ready for her to see.

 

“If you will excuse me, my lords, I think I am needed elsewhere,” Marguerite informed them, kissing Henry’s cheek.

 

“Hurry back, Daisy, I think I shall have that wrestling match with your brother after all,” Henry teased her, giving Charles a smirk.

  
  
“How am I like Duke Francis!” Charles demanded, sounding genuinely offended this time.

* * *

 

  ** _May 1 1512_ **

**_Portugal_ **

****

Miguel would be fourteen in a few months but his father decided that the two teenagers would consummate their marriage tonight. Queen Maria was still having children---her newest son, Henrique was born last January---so there was no reason for them to start so early.

 

Perhaps King Manual was trying to make sure that no one could say his son was a homosexual or he was afraid her brother might use those rumors as pretext to ask for his sister back and annul her still unconsummated marriage. 

  
Whatever the reason was, he had his servants do the bed ceremony before leaving the two scared teenagers alone in the room. They stood in front of the bed, looking at it with the same expression of apprehension.

 

“Maybe we can fake it. Prick my finger or something,” Mary suggested, wanting to give them both an out. Of course they knew they would have to copulate someday but it didn’t have to be tonight.

 

“I’m not a good liar, Mary, you know if Father asks me, I’ll tell him,” Miguel pointed out, looking petrified. “We have to do it but I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
  
“My governess told me that it always hurts the first time but it gets easier as time goes on,” Mary assured him, taking his hand in hers. “We’re in this together, Miguel. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll…” she trailed off.

 

She hated feeling so scared especially when she had just turned sixteen.  She wished her mother was with her, giving her the guidance and comfort that could not be expressed over letters.

  
“I have to grow up some time,” Miguel said in a shaky voice before giving Mary a grateful smile. “I’m glad it’s with you.”  
  
“Me too,” Mary admitted honestly as they moved to the bed, knowing that there would be no turning back afterwards.

* * *

 

**_May 30 1512_ **

**_Spain_ **

****

The Duke of Buckingham and his co-conspirators were dead. And Arthur felt he could finally breathe easily as he sailed for Spain, leaving England in the capable hands of the newly renamed Duke of Norfolk.

 

Crowds of Spanish people were on the roads that led to the Spanish royal court and after a decade of being married to Katherine, Arthur could deduce what the people were shouting.

 

“Our Infanta Catalina has returned to us!”  
  
  
“Her mother’s daughter, a true Queen!”  
  
  
“I’m surprised that they do not call me a monster for forcing you to return to England,” Arthur joked as their carriage arrived outside the palace.

 

Katherine was unable to respond as they were now walking up to the great lawn where King Juan and his court were waiting.

 

“Our beloved sister, Queen Catalina and King Arturo, welcome,” King Juan greeted them, kissing Arturo’s cheeks and then he embracing his sister, not caring if it was a breach of protocol or not. Katherine was not embarrassed in the slightest by his behavior and she hugged her older brother back, just as happy to see him as he was to see her.

 

“King Juan, I am glad you have agreed to allow us to visit your fair country,” Arthur said, taking care to speak in Spanish.

 

“Well you honor us by visiting. However, we are sorry not to meet our nephews and nieces,” Juan half-jested with a chuckle, before beckoning his children to step forward. “It is my pleasure to introduce to you my children. My handsome sons: Infante Alfonso, Infante Juan, Infante Maximillian. And my two beautiful daughters: Infanta Margarita and Infanta Catalina.”  
  
  
The last time Katherine had seen her niece, she was a five-year-old girl and now she was fifteen---almost the spitting image of her mother. Alfonso had just been a baby when she left and now he was almost thirteen---and he looked a little bit like her father. Well that couldn’t be good.

 

She smiled sweetly as her youngest niece---a girl of four---offered a bouquet of flowers to her.

 

“They're from all of us,” Alfonso spoke up, causing his father to shoot him a furious glare for daring to speak out of turn.

 

“Well I love them, thank you so much for this lovely gift,” Katherine complemented them, praying that the relationship between Alfonso and Juan wasn’t as bad as she was beginning to be concerned was. She would invite her oldest niece to eat while Arthur was negotiating with Juan.

 

“Come, you must be tired after all that traveling. We will have a banquet in celebration tonight but for now let us retire,” Juan suggested, having his older daughter at his side as the three monarchs walked inside.

It was a good start but Katherine just hoped that her brother’s good mood would last for the entirety of their visit. She didn’t to bring up that topic but if Juan was---unconsciously--- treating Alfonso like their father, she needed to put a stop to it just in case history chose to repeat itself.

 

Katherine shook her head, realizing that she might be worrying needlessly and even if she was right, it wasn’t her place to meddle.  But that logic did nothing to stop the shiver shooting up her spine as she glanced back at her oldest nephew. 

* * *

 

  ** _June 9 1512_ **

**_France_ **

****

She would be twenty in less than a month. Both Katherine and Margaret had become mothers before their twentieth birthday. Elizabeth of York had Arthur seven months after she turned twenty. In her mother and sister-in-law’s cases, they conceived early in their marriages.

 

Despite losing the baby, Henry’s wife got pregnant practically on their wedding night. And yet after two years of being queen of France, Elisabeth had nothing to show for it. Her husband, visited her bed infrequently, obviously not realizing that they needed to conceive a son eventually.

 

There were whispers that either she or the king was infertile. Some even whispered the king was impotent, something that outraged Elisabeth and she was tempted to scream to the entire court that when he bothered to show up, Charles was a good lover (albeit clumsy and unsure of himself at first) who pleased her immensely.

 

 

“Of course if I go and tell him I want to sleep with him because I want a child or to prove his detractors---paid by that Louisa of Savoy no doubt---wrong, he’ll only feel pressured and nervous which will make him even more reluctant to visit my bed,” Elisabeth complained.

 

Sometimes it was fun to draw Charles out of his shell but after two years of marriage, Elisabeth knew she had to be careful not to get him too flustered. He was getting more confident---both as a king and as a lover. Soon, he would be as self-assured as François (although hopefully a little less arrogant). However right now, Elisabeth was not in the mood to be patient, not when she wanted to be a mother sooner rather than later, not when her husband’s dynasty needed to be secured.

 

If Madeline thought she was speaking too coarsely, she did not comment---but then again unladylike talk was why they were such good friends.  

 

“Well perhaps you should try something a bit more brazen and unorthodox,” she remarked, a mischievous look on her face.

“Will it shock my mother and grandmother when they learn of it?” Elisabeth asked, an intrigued eyebrow raised.

 

“Perhaps. But maybe the next time, he feels he cannot share your bed because he finds himself too preoccupied with matters of the state, instead you can go to his bedchambers and tell him that you cannot bare to spend the night without him,” Madeline suggested.

 

“Not technically against the rules but unorthodox and quite romantic, Maddy, that is brilliant,” Elisabeth gushed.

 

“I’m glad I could help,” Madeline replied, as she continued her needlework.

 

“Speaking of romance. Anything gossip you wish to share, Collette?” Elisabeth inquired, glancing at two of her other favored ladies. “Louisa?”  
  
  
“Nothing we have not already told you,” Collette replied, keeping her eyes downcast.

 

“What about Marie and the Duke of Angoulême?” Louisa reminded her.

 

“What about them? What they do is no concern of ours,” Elisabeth barked, suddenly tense. Marie Gaudin had been her lady for some time and while the queen had not much minded when it was simply flirting, it had irked her that one of her ladies was now a mistress. “There is a difference between speaking vulgarly and acting vulgarly. I hope you understand that I do not approve of lecherous behavior in my ladies.”  
  
  
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Collette and Louisa chorused meekly.

 

As if she had been summoned, Marie Gaudin came into the room, looking rather disheveled. Good heavens, one would think that she would at least fix up her appearance before showing up hours late.

 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty for being late, I was detained,” Marie apologized as she curtsied lowly.

 

“Yes well I’m sure His Grace keeps you very busy,” Elisabeth jeered, unable to keep the bite out of her tone.  There was just something about this woman, she didn’t like. “But I am growing tired of your tardiness. It is not becoming of a lady to be keep her queen waiting, is it, Mistress Gaudin?”  
  
  
“No Your Majesty, I can only beg your forgiveness,” Marie said, her cheeks colored by humiliation and embarrassment as the other ladies tittered at her being signaled out for a tongue lashing by the queen.

 

“Well if you are going to beg, I suppose I can forgive you this time. However, if this sort of behavior continues, I might just ask my husband to find me a replacement lady-in-waiting who knows how important her duties are,” Elisabeth told her coldly. “Now go do something useful if you are capable of doing so.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Marie replied docilely, her lower lip trembling, curtsying again before scurrying to an empty chair like the little mouse she was.

 

“Jealousy is not a good color on you,” Madeline muttered, just loud enough for Elisabeth to hear but not so loud that anyone near them could have heard.

 

Elisabeth stared at her in bewilderment. Why on earth would she be jealous of that silly chit?  

 

She had absolutely no reason to dislike that girl other than the fact that she took advantage of Elisabeth not forcing her ladies to be demure and prudish like the woman of the English court in order to act like a slut.

 

She would never approve of such lecherous behavior no matter which lady it was and who their lovers were. 

* * *

 

That night, Elisabeth decided to put Madeline’s plan into action.  She made sure that her hair was up in the style she knew Charles loved, sprayed her wrists and neck with perfume and dressed in her finest nightgown.

 

She made sure to wear a concealing robe as she walked through corridors to the King’s apartments with only Madeline and two guards following her.

 

“Tell my husband I am here to see him,” she told one of his grooms in a regal voice.

 

After the groom had picked up his jaw, he went to the King’s study, to inform him that his wife was here. The man returned with baffled look on his face.

 

“His Majesty is touched that you are here to say goodnight to him but he regrets to inform you that he has quite a bit of paperwork to look over and he would hate to keep you waiting,” the groom recited.

 

It took all of the queen’s willpower not to roll her eyes at her oblivious husband. 

 

“Well you can tell him that I shall be waiting in his bed whenever he can spare some time for me,” Elisabeth commanded, turning to her guards before the groom could speak. “Would you two mind accompanying my Lady Trémoille back to her chambers? I will be staying the night here.”

Deciding she had made her point, Elisabeth gave them all a winning smile before walking into her husband’s bedchamber. She removed the little clothes she had on and had just laid down on the bed when Charles walked in.

 

“Lis, you do not play fair,” Charles declared, not even bothering to wait until he had finished his sentence before he took off his garments.

  
“Oh hush, you love it,” Elisabeth laughed as she relished the hungry look in her husband’s eyes as they raked over her naked body. Oh victory was so very sweet.

* * *

 

**_June 11 1512_ **

**_Vienna, Austria_ **

****

Emperor Maximilian might be old and grey. He was only two years younger than the later King Henry but he was still as sharp and stubborn as a young man.

 

“My son-in-law is arrogant and imprudent. He has shown no care for anyone else’s interest but his own,” the Emperor said bluntly.

 

As his translator recited the words into Henry’s ears, the Duke of York wondered if the Emperor believed that because he was the father of Spain’s beloved wife, that Spain was subservient to the Holy Roman Empire.

 

If he was in King John’s shoes, Henry would not have listened either. Who was this old man to boss him around?

 

Thankfully he was not so stupid to say so. Instead he followed Wolsey’s suggestion (approved by Arthur).

 

“Your Imperial Majesty, my brother is not going to comment on his brother-in-law, he loves his wife far too much to insult her family as she is very sensitive but he hopes that you will be agreeable to allowing King Juan’s daughter to Prince Louis of Hungry if King Juan agrees to relinquish control over Princess Anna of Hungry. He also offers his eldest daughter’s hand in marriage to your grandson,” Henry informed him, watching the Emperor’s expression as his own translator whispered in his ear. 

 

“I’m sure his daughter is very pretty but she is not the heiress of Hungry,” Maximillian pointed out. “Besides it is not about marriages but about respect. King Juan has disrespected me and only Prince Louis marrying my granddaughter can rectify his insults.”

 

_How is it that King Juan is imprudent, rash, impulsive and hot-headed and yet he’s willing to compromise more than you?_

“Than I am afraid that Prince William will no longer take your granddaughter as his bride,” Henry said impulsively, causing Wolsey to stiffen.

 

Henry knew that Emperor Maximillian could call his bluff and agree that his granddaughter Maria would not marry William. Considering how ugly the girl looked when Henry had seen her, he felt he would actually be doing his nephew a favor if that was the outcome.

 

Besides if Kathy was not good enough for Charles of Austria than Maria was not good enough for Will. 

 

“Does your brother know you are making such decisions for him?” the Emperor inquired, clearly trying to bait Henry in an argument.

 

“No because he and his wife are in Spain, dealing with your imprudent son-in-law,” Henry replied, a crafty idea forming in his mind. “Arthur believes that King Juan will only be persuaded to relinquish Princess Anna if he speaks to him with his favorite sister. Meanwhile he sent me to you, knowing that you are a reasonable man who needs no tricks to get him to listen. Just the facts.”  
  
  
  
“No tricks?” Maximillian repeated doubtfully but he also smiled grimly. “I have a feeling that is not the case but you are right that my son-in-law is quite unreasonable. I suppose we could work something out.” 

 

“Thank you, Your Gracious Majesty.”

 

Perhaps he wasn’t so bad at negotiations as he thought.

* * *

 

**_Spain_ **

****

“Do you remember how we used to play here together? I begged you to play with me but I was too rough and I hurt you. I remember making you cry and it tore me apart that I had made my sweet sister cry,” Juan remarked as they sat in the courtyard, watching Arthur as he mock-dueled Alfonso. “I promised you that I would never make you cry again but I know that I have broken that promise, haven’t I?”

 

Katherine turned to look at him in surprise. She had not expected him to even hint at that particular topic.

 

“Juan, please, it is in the past,” she told him firmly.

 

“Lina, please, be honest with me,” Juan implored her, desperation in her voice. “Juana and Maria have made their feelings on what I did clear. I know they think I’m a monster. Tell me that you do not feel the same way.”  
  
  
“I will never consider you a monster,” Katherine whispered fiercely. “You are my big brother and I love you.” She didn’t mention that she did cry when she learned that he had executed their father (and in the heat of the moment she had condemned him as their father’s murderer if though he had not swung the axe). She did not mention that she was horrified by what he had done after his wife’s death, exiling two innocent people who really had done nothing wrong. 

 

He needed to know that she would never stop loving her brother, no matter what he did or would do.

 

 _Perhaps you do think he is a monster._ A small voice hissed as Juan embraced her.

 

“I love you too, baby sister, and I am pleased that you are happy,” he murmured.   

 

“I am. Are you happy?”  
  
  
Juan sighed heavily as he let go of her. “That is a question I am not sure I can answer honestly,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong. Having you here with your husband, hearing stories about my nephews and nieces have been wonderful.”

 

“What about your children? Do they not make you happy?” Katherine asked, glancing at the five children in question who were now seated in front of Arthur who seemed to be regaling them with a tale.

 

“Well Margarita is her mother’s daughter and sending her to Hungry will be a nightmare for me and Catalina reminds me of you which means I named her well. Juan and Maximiliano are good boys who always do as they are told,” Juan replied, giving Katherine a knowing look. “I suppose Margarita has already informed you of my difficulties with Alfonso.”  
  
  
“It might have come up,” Katherine replied, feeling rather embarrassed by how Juan seemed to look right through her. But then again, they were always close.

 

“I know I’m hard on him, Lina, but you saw how he acted when he greeted you. He just couldn’t let poor Catalina take the credit for giving you flowers. He had to make clear to everyone that it was his idea too,” Juan snapped.

 

“Or perhaps he wanted to be sure that he, Margarita and their brothers got credit as well as their sister,” Katherine suggested. Her brother shrugged and she bit her lip, choosing her next words carefully. “Perhaps I’m speaking out of turn but Juan, do you think that perhaps you are hard on him because he looks like our father?”

 

She had expected her brother to be angry at this. To yell at her for daring to suggest such a thing. Or maybe he would simply deflect the question, assure her that wasn’t the case and hurriedly change the subject to something else.

  
But to her surprise Juan did not lose his temper nor change the subject. Instead he let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he looked away from her.  

 

“No. I think I would not be able to look at Alfonso or be in the same room as him if my feelings towards our father affected the way I treat him,” Juan admitted, suddenly finding his hands very interesting. 

 

“Then what is it?” Katherine wondered, placing her hand on her brother’s arm, hoping he would talk to her.

 

“He reminds me of me, Lina. By God, he is entitled, stubborn, prideful, rash and impulsive. Everything I was---I am,” Juan admitted in small voice. “I am hard on him because I don’t want him to become me. I know I strived to be everything our father wasn’t just to spite him.”

Katherine fought the smile that was tugging at her lips. “Or you could do just the opposite. Alfonso thinks you hate him, Juan,” Katherine revealed. “If you keep being so hard on him, it will only get worse.”  
  
  
“This is why I’m glad you are here. Not even Margarita so honest with me,” Juan remarked, patting her hand. “I’ll try my best. But I refuse to let him get away with being rude. At least I had drinking as an excuse, he has none.”  
  
  
“If I may speak freely, just because you were drunk does not excuse threatening to invade England in front of the English Ambassador,” Katherine teased him, causing Juan to laugh loudly.

 

And suddenly they were back in a time where things were better. Back when Margarita was alive along with Mother. Back when Father and Juan did not hate each other. Back when Infanta Catalina was a new aunt and godmother to twin girls.  

 

For now it didn’t matter what Juan had done. For now Katherine enjoyed strolling down memory lane with her favorite brother.

* * *

  ** _June 20 1512_**  
**_Vienna, Austria_**

 

The negotiations were over but the Duke of York had one more job to do before he returned to England, a job given to him by Queen Katherine.

 

He was to check on Infanta Joanna who, ever since her husband’s death, was confined in a convent as the Emperor feared that she had mental health issues. Katherine wanted to Henry to check on her and make she was being well cared for and happy.

 

The Duke of York was not sure what he was expecting when he was assured into her room but he was not expecting the thirty-two-year-old widow to be so lovely and put together---perhaps her madness was an exaggeration.

 

“Tell me, how is my sister? Is she happy?”  
  
  
“She is, my lady,” Henry replied.

 

“Good. I hope that brother of yours is not like my Philip. He was so handsome but so cruel to me,” Joanna explained.

 

“I can assure you that my brother would rather die than hurt his wife,” Henry informed her as he sipped the wine that she had offered him.

 

“How wonderful. Catalina deserves nothing but the best,” Joanna said sweetly as she drowned her entire glass of wine before refilling it. Apparently she took after her brother in more ways than one. “It was sweet of her to send her handsome brother-in-law to visit me.”

“My lady, you flatter me,” Henry laughed, feeling rather flirtatious. Perhaps his ten-year-old self was whispering that if he could not have Katherine, perhaps he could have her sister instead. “I must say that you are even prettier than your sister.”  
  
“Now you are just buttering me up,” Joanna remarked, a smile on her face. “I implore you to stop, my lord. I am so lonely, I’m not sure I should be trusted around you.”  
  
  
“Forgive me but I just cannot help but admire you,” Henry explained. “You are a vision in lace.”  
  
  
“You torture me with your words, my lord,” Joanna gasped dramatically. “Here I am, an old and fat woman and you continue to pander to my vanity.”

 

“Old? Fat? Nay! You are as beautiful as unspoiled maiden,” Henry declared, drinking the last drops of his wine before extending his hand for the wine pitcher so he could refill his goblet.

 

“Perhaps we should stop drinking before we do something we regret,” Joanna suggested keeping a hold of the pitcher, fluttering her eyelashes. 

 

“Or perhaps we should continue drinking for that exact reason,” Henry suggested, licking his lips.

 

It was a terrible idea for many reasons but honestly knowing that she was forbidden to him, just made her even more attractive. It made the idea of having her even more exciting.

 

Joanna smiled at him as she leaned forward to fill his glass, giving him a nice view of her breasts. 

 

Yes, it would definitely be worth it.

* * *

“I hope that she will be worth it,” Marguerite remarked coldly, her hands crossed over her chest as her husband stumbled into their chamber hours later.

 

“What are you talking about? We just talked,” Henry lied, his words slurring a bit. 

 

“Don’t you dare lie to me, not this time!” Marguerite shouted before lowering her voice. “I know when you’ve laid with another woman, _husband_ , you are about as subtle as your half-buttoned shirt.”  
  
  
Henry looked down to see she was right, he had missed a few buttons.  Feeling sheepish, he chose to get defensive. “So what if we did? It’s my right to have a mistress.”

 

“Oh of course, my lord, please go have your fill of those empty-headed sluts who throw themselves at you,” Marguerite sneered. “But there is a difference between sleeping with your nephew or niece’s governess or one of Queen Katherine’s ladies-in-writing or one of my ladies even one of my half-sisters would have been a better choice than a princess whose father-in-law is not going to be happy if he ever finds out about you taking advantage of the mother of his grandsons.”

 

“He won’t find out,” Henry protested. “I was very discreet when I left her bedchambers.”

 

Marguerite actually rolled her eyes. Her husband was such a blind fool. He had no idea just how badly he might have screwed up. If anyone ever found out about this or God forbid, Joanna actually became pregnant, it would be disastrous.

 

“You better hope not because if he does and your brother finds out---well I doubt Arthur will let this mistake of yours slide,” Marguerite warned him. “And you best find another woman who is just as vulnerable and lonely because you will not be sharing my bed tonight, Your Grace.” With that final remark, she turned around and walked into their bedchamber, slamming the door behind her.

 

Henry could do nothing but just stare after her, wondering if messing up as envoy was the only reason she was angry him instead of simply being jealous. That thought upset him even more than the fact that she had just yelled at him.

* * *

 

**_June 31 1512_ **

****

Meanwhile unaware of the Duke of York’s folly, Arthur and Katherine were on a boat traveling back to England. 

 

“It was beautiful, sweetheart, I am glad I got to see it all,” Arthur remarked, exaggerating just a bit as they had not traveled to Aragon where Katherine was born which would have been nice but they had spent long enough in Spain and now it was time to go home. 

 

“England is beautiful as well, mi amour and although I will always love my homeland, our country has given me so much than I could ever possible dreamed of,” Katherine told him, her eyes gleaming with affection. “Wonderful subjects, a loving husband and seven perfect children.” 

 

“And we love you just as much.”

 

“I’m just glad my brother was willing to listen and Henry managed to convince the Emperor to give up his claim to Louis of Hungry,” Katherine told him as she nestled into his embrace, not at all disturbed by the rocking of the ship.  

 

Juan was a good man, who had made mistakes in the past, perhaps he was willing to make an effort to be better. After all, he knew his faults, perhaps he would overcome them and be a good father and king. 

 

Katherine could only pray that would be the case. 

 

Arthur nodded before his eyes lit up and he glanced down at her with a wolfish grin on his face.

 

“I just realized something. Last night I was in Spain,” Arthur remarked, recalling his boast the first time he and Katherine laid together.

 

Katherine blushed. “Oh Arthur, please. You have been to Spain many times,” she whispered even though they were alone and no one could hear her. “And I suppose it has been thirsty work.”

Despite looking briefly mortified at her own words, she dissolved into giggles as Arthur began kissing her all over her face.

 

“Time to go back to Spain!” Arthur declared, absurdly gleeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miguel is too innocent for this world and despite being his wife, Mary is basically gonna be a cool big sister to him, protecting him, keeping his secrets. She might be wishing she could be free and back in England but she meant when she said she and Miguel were in this together.  
> Also I did not enjoy even hinting that thirteen-year-old had sex but during that time period, sometimes that happened.  
> Much like her brother, Elisabeth enjoys a challenge and that is basically what Charles is. He's not an idolized king that she has fantasized about and getting him out of his shell is exciting for her. But unlike Henry, she doesn't get bored and while she does have an attraction to you-know-who and has a lot more in common with him, she does love Charles. (You'll just have to wait and see if she's going to be faithful).  
> As for Joanna, she is a lonely woman who gets few visitors and even fewer people telling her she is pretty. There is a reason why Marguerite feels like Henry not only messed up badly but also took advantage of her.  
> Arthur and Katherine have few to no troubles in this chapter. Honestly they won't have problems for a decade.


	10. Blood Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pregnancies, betrayals, ambitions and scandal abound.

**_August 11 1512_ **

**_Spain_ **

****

Prince Luis and his sister Princess Anna had sailed back to Hungry, now that the negotiations with the Holy Roman Emperor were completed.  But it was not over. Emperor Maximiliano had once been a man King Juan had respected and admired. He had once assumed that just because of the death of his wife, the blood ties between Spain and the Holy Roman Empire would not fall apart. He had been naïve, trusting his father-in-law would not betray him as his father did.

 

“Gentlemen, I am aware that King Carlos is still reluctant to trust me,” King Juan observed. “So I was thinking we should make the connections to our two countries even stronger than simply my sweet Catalina for his cousin.  His youngest sister Renata would be a perfect bride for Maximiliano.”

 

When King Arturo and Catalina visited, the three monarchs had made an agreement that Princess Isabella would marry Infante Juan, leaving only Maximiliano the only one of his children without a future spouse.

 

None of his councilmen asked why he was not seeking the Princess Claudia for his youngest son as she was closer to marriable age than her sister. Hopefully the French monarch would not ask either, perhaps believing it was the age difference between his half-sister and the young Spanish Infante that made her unsuitable as a bride. It had absolutely nothing to do with the rumors of her appearance.

 

“Do you think it is wise to continue allying with the French? It might make the Emperor feel threatened,” Don Moreno pointed out, only to shrink in his seat when Juan scowled darkly at him. The king’s temper was often violate especially when he had been drinking something he did often.

 

“And why should I care what that the Holy Roman Emperor thinks? He has no control over my actions,” the Spanish ruler growled, looming over the other man, practically daring him to argue. “I care not a wit how my decisions make that dishonorable knave feel.”

“Of course he has no control over your kingdom, Your Majesty but Spain and France have been enemies for centuries. I merely thought it would not be wise to upset our ally,” Moreno explained meekly, suddenly fearing that as punishment for speaking up, he would be fired if not throttled.

 

In a fit of rage Juan slammed his fists on the table, hard enough to knock several papers off it, not that anyone dared to pick them up, just in case the King would turn his anger onto them.

 

“OUR ALLY! THAT BASTARD IS A BULLYING THIEF WHO LOCKED MY POOR SISTER UP AND IS BRIBING ELECTORS TO MAKE SURE HIS GRANDSON SUCCEEDS HIM INSTEAD OF LETTING OTHER KINGS HAVE A CHANCE TO BE THE HOLY ROMAN EMPEROR. ALL OF THAT I COULD FORGIVE BUT THEN HE HAS THE GALL TO TRY AND SCREW ME OVER AND YOU CALL HIM OUR ALLY!” Juan roared, his eyes flashing dangerously. He then calmed down slightly, speaking in a softer tone. “I would rather die than call him Spain’s ally. Once his granddaughter arrives on our shores, I shall not have anything else to do with him. For as far as I’m concerned, the only good thing that the Emperor did for Spain was give her our beloved queen.”

 

With that King Juan turned and stormed out, shouting at a groom to bring him another jug of wine.

* * *

**_August 30 1512_ **

**_France_ **

****

King Charles could not help but notice that his wife was distracted. Normally when they dined together, he was usually the one whose thoughts were elsewhere and he would have to rely on Elisabeth, to patiently with a touch of mild annoyance, bring him back to the topic they were discussing.

 

However tonight the queen seemed to be in a whole another world, staring dreamily at her food, not even seeming to notice her husband was sitting at the other end of the table, staring at her expectantly.  

 

“Have you picked out a present for Prince Ambrose yet?” Charles asked, hoping to regain her attention by talking about her beloved nephew.

 

“I did: last month so it would get to England before his actual birthday,” Lis replied, giving him a bemused look, still beaming at him.

 

“Oh, that’s good. I hope he’ll like it,” Charles said, hiding his embarrassed scowl behind his wine glass. He knew she wasn’t trying to make him feel like an idiot. Clearly, something was just making her so happy that she barely noticed how condescending she had just sounded.

 

“I’m sure he will,” Elisabeth agreed, a sly glint in her eyes. “I can hardly believe that he is ten already. It seemed like it was just yesterday that my brother announced that he and his wife were expecting a baby.”

 

Charles’ eyebrow shot up on his forehead. As unobservant as he usually was, he did remember Elisabeth jumping out of her bed early in the mornings because she needed to throw up. Then she had told him that a certain dish she usually loved was making her feel queasy, even asking that it be moved out of her dining room when it was brought to their private supper.

 

Not to mention François had noted that she was practically glowing and he had teased Charles about what all of this unusual behavior could mean. The fact that she had brought up the time when her nephew’s upcoming birth was announced instead of simply saying it was ten years since he was born made the king certain that he knew the reason for his wife’s distractedness.

 

“Leave us,” Charles commanded their servants who obeyed without hesitation. He could hear snatches of whispered words as his grooms tried to pry what was going on out of the ladies-in-waiting. Once they had left, Charles took his napkin off his lap and placed it on the table before moving to kneel by his wife’s side. 

 

“Lis, I beg of you, do not keep me in suspense,” he pleaded, taking her hands in his. “Say what it is that has you acting so giddy.”

 

“If you have figured it out, my love, why don’t you say it?” Elisabeth inquired, her golden-red curls practically bouncing as she shook her head at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

 

“Because I want to hear it from your lips,” Charles explained, kissing her hands over and over again. “Please indulge me just this once.”  
  
  
“Oh all right, just for you, my wonderful, handsome king,” Elisabeth murmured, running her fingers through his blond hair, already picturing a child with her eyes and his father’s golden locks before taking his hand and placing it on her abdomen. “Sometime in March, I shall have done my duty to France. I shall give you a son born out of our love.” 

 

“You are with child?” Charles clarified, just in case he was somehow misinterpreted her words. When his wife nodded, Charles leapt up and wrapped his arms around Elisabeth, lifting her up and kissing her lovingly. “You have made me the happiest man in all of France.”

 

“We will have a dauphin and he shall be the most handsome of princes now that his father is no longer a prince,” Elisabeth gushed.

 

“Daughter or son, my love, I care not,” Charles whispered, setting Elisabeth down so he could cup her face in his hands. “For now a healthy babe is all I want.” 

 

“Shall we tell François or will we be celebrating alone?” Elisabeth wondered, recalling the knowing looks the Duke had been sending her way. She knew that François and Charles were as close as she and Henry were. She would never tell Charles this but once the midwife had confirmed her suspicions that she was indeed with child, she had immediately written a letter to Henry wanting her favorite brother to be the first to know of her wonderful news.

 

She had no doubt that François would be the first person to learn of his cousin’s impending fatherhood. Speaking of the Duke of Angoulême, while he would be overjoyed by the news, his mother would quite disappointed. After all, once Elisabeth and Charles had their son, Louisa of Savoy’s dreams of François becoming king of France would be dashed.

 

“I shall tell him tomorrow. Tonight it shall be all about us. The three of us,” Charles amended gleefully.  “And Lis, if we do have a lovely princess, I want to name her Elisabeth after you.”

 

“I don’t know what I did right to deserve you, my love,” Elisabeth murmured, feeling quite flattered that he would want to do so instead of naming their firstborn daughter after his beloved mother like he was planning to name their firstborn son after his stepfather.

* * *

  **_November 1 1512_**

**_England_ **

 

****

“Tell me brother, does my Queen of Hearts not glow with radiance?” Arthur asked in a staged whisper, knowing full well his wife could hear him.

 

“She does indeed,” Henry agreed, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

 

Arthur had already informed the privy council that yet again, Katherine was pregnant. The Duke of York was beginning to wonder if there would ever be a time when she wasn’t pregnant; aside from the three-year gap between Izzy and Maggie, his sister-in-law kept having babies which was doing no good for her once slim figure.

 

 It seemed as though all his siblings were having children (except for Edmund and Mary) while he had yet to become a father.  Margaret had given birth to another son in April, Elizabeth had written to tell him she was with child and now Katherine was pregnant. Why was he and Marguerite so unlucky?

 

Both Arthur and Katherine were pushing thirty while he and Marguerite were just starting out in their twenties so why was it harder for them to conceive when they were younger and healthier then the two monarchs.

 

As if she could read his thoughts, the Duchess of York placed her hand on her husband’s arm and whispered in his ear.

 

“Have patience, Chèri. We shall have our little Earl of Nottingham someday,” she murmured soothingly.

 

There was an undertone of longing in her voice which made Henry squeeze her hand as he realized that he was not the only person feeling put out that the Queen was pregnant for third time in less than three years while Marguerite’s womb remained empty.

* * *

 

William glanced around the Great Hall, searching for a familiar face. He would be leaving for Ludlow tomorrow and would not be back until Lady’s Day as his father had wanted him to get settled in his own household before returning to court. When he asked why he couldn’t stay until after Christmastide, allowing him to celebrate his mother’s birthday as well as his sister and brother’s birthday, Arthur had told him that if he stayed at court for every celebration, he would never go to Ludlow where he would be taught how to run a government.

 

The Prince of Wales couldn’t help but think he could just as easily learn how to run a government by observing his father doing petitions and meeting with his advisors. However, he knew what Arthur would say to that: it wasn’t the same as actually being in charge of the council of Wales. He was going to Ludlow just as his father had done before him.  
  
  
He had already said his goodbyes to his uncles, his brothers and his sisters. Now he was looking for Anne so he could say goodbye to her. He would not be seeing her again for some time and he would miss her greatly.

 

At least her brother would be joining his household so they wouldn’t be completely cut off from each other. However, while George was a nice companion, William would miss the easy friendship he had with Anne.

 

“Lord and Lady Rochford,” William greeted Anne’s parents politely.

 

“Your Highness, to what do we owe this unexpected honor?” Thomas Boleyn asked, glancing down at the prince with a glimmer of genuine pleasure in his normally cold eyes. After all the very idea that any member of the royal family taking an interest in any of the Boleyns was a promising start for his political career

 

And while his wife being the favored lady of the Dowager Queen Elizabeth and his children being taught by Lady Margaret was all well and good---if he wanted to get his Dukedom and officially pull his family from obscurity to peers of the land. His actions with the whole Buckingham--Suffolk debacle had improved his standing with the King but he was certain that by integrating his children with the royal children especially the crown prince, he would eventually gain a dukedom.

 

Of course he would place all his hopes on children. He would make himself indispensable to the King, making sure to be as helpful as possible as either an ambassador or an advisor. King Arthur and his brother could not be more different than night and day but they both were willing to give men of less than stellar births high positions if they proved them worthy enough.

 

“I wanted to invite Anne to sit with me and my siblings at our table----George and Mary are welcome to come as well,” William added hastily, not wanting to make Anne’s siblings feel left out. 

 

“Can we Papa?” George asked, his eyes lighting up with delight. Even at a young age, he knew what a special privilege it was to be invited to dine with the royal children.

 

Thomas kept his face neutral as he looked at his children. It was almost funny how earnest their expressions were---as though he would ever say no to a request by the Prince of Wales. If William wanted one of his father’s subjects to act like a horse right then and there even the old and proud Duke of Norfolk would get down on his knees in front of everyone and start neighing.

 

“Of course, you may.  Just remember to behave,” Thomas commanded, allowing a ghost of a smile to tug at his lips as he watched his children walk towards the table of the princes and princesses. 

 

He couldn’t help but notice how the Prince of Wales seemed to be hanging off of every word his youngest daughter said.

 

“I know that look. What are you plotting this time, my love?” Elizabeth whispered in his ear.

 

“I’m not plotting. I’m simply observing,” Thomas said truthfully. After all, William and Anne were far too young to be anything but friends. Still the idea that one day, his daughter might marry the Prince of Wales was quite appealing.

* * *

 

The Viscount of Rochford was not the only one who was observing William’s interactions with the Boleyn girl, wondering if they were an indication of what was to come.

 

The Countess of Derby did not often come to court, as the journey was becoming too much for her old bones but when she did, she made sure to study her great-grandchildren, hoping to discern their temperament and healthiness.

 

Prince Henry and Princess Elizabeth were both under three-years-old and therefore they had only been at the feast briefly before being taken back to the nursery. While little Harry was as robust as his namesake, Elizabeth was small and sickly child, one Margaret feared would not live past her toddler years.

 

Prince John was eight-years-old and was growing like a weed. He was meek and quiet like his father. He seemed shy and nervous, barely interacting with anyone. She would have to have a serious talk with Arthur that she should figured out how to tough that boy up as he looked as though he might hide behind his mother’s skirt as though the children his brother was introducing him to were terrifying monsters.

 

The three girls were much more impressive. In contrast to her twin, little Kathy had a fierce spirit; she would make a wonderful Holy Roman Empress. She might be named after her mother but she had no meekness and was already growing into a fine young lady.

 

Isabella was intelligent child for a girl of seven. Although her name was infuriatingly Spanish, she was a true Tudor Rose. It chagrinned Margaret very much that the Queen---who clearly was still loyal to Spain---had convinced Arthur to waste their daughter on a second son instead of marrying her to a king like she deserved.

 

Her own namesake was four-years-old, not as fierce or intelligent as her sisters but even at a young age, she seemed to know just the right thing to say and when she grew older there was no doubt she’d be quite a social butterfly.

 

 

Lastly and most importantly, there was William. There were times when Margaret thought Arthur was turning that boy soft and if she were to compare him to his uncles, William definitely seemed to have his father’s meekness. The fact that his parents were far too sort with him was another concern.

 

But then again, there was a subtle daring and cunning in the boy that not many people picked up on. When he was determined to see his mother on her birthday two years ago, he had managed to escape his governess and make it to the Boleyn’s rooms without anyone noticing him.

 

According to Edmund’s letters to Elizabeth who kind enough to share them with Margaret, that once he was yelled at by his tutor for getting a passage wrong, William had spent the entire day looking through his school books to show the tutor that he was in the right. (For once Margaret agreed with her grandson when he told the disgruntled tutor that while William should not argue with adults, he was not to be punished for being right about something his teacher got wrong).

 

William was clearly not the type to be easily swayed and already he had a fierce sort of determination to get what he wanted. Unlike his equally stubborn uncle, he didn’t rely on using his title or throwing a fit to get his way.

 

At Ludlow, they would shape William into a strong king who would not second guess himself nor would he rely on his wife like his father constantly did.

 

Queen Katherine clearly had her husband wrapped around her fingers. Why else would Arthur keep marrying his children to her nieces and nephews? Well the future Holy Roman Emperor was the only one actually worthy of an English princess and she supposed that the intended bride for John was not unreasonable. However, just as the second son of a madman was not good enough for Isabella, the third daughter of a madwoman was not good enough for the Crown Prince.

 

Margaret studied Anne Boleyn as she whispered something in William’s ear. While she would never say that a daughter of a knight---even if she was the granddaughter of a duke--- was worthy of a royal match but there was something about that dark-eyed intelligent girl that made the old countess intrigued.

* * *

 

 

**_November 29 1512_ **

 

The Duke of York had a bounce in his step and a wide grin on his face as he walked through the corridors towards his brother’s presence chamber. He was in a splendid mood. Marguerite was beginning to show signs that she was with child again. Although he feared tempting fate, the prospect of becoming a father at last was too enticing not to be overjoyed about.

 

However his good mood was soured when he arrived and his brother immediately fixed him with a fierce glare.

 

“What did you do?” Arthur hissed, his voice shaking with fury. It was clear that he was struggling to keep his temper under control.

 

“I didn’t do anything!” Henry exclaimed, wondering what the hell his brother was talking about and feeling offended that he was being blamed for something he had no knowledge of.

 

“Oh? Tell me, Henry, when you went to visit Emperor Maximilian, what were your tasks?” Arthur inquired, pacing around the room, his fists clenched.

 

“To convince His Imperial Majesty to stop feuding with King John of Spain,” Henry recited like a child reciting his lesson. He was becoming bewildered by his brother’s behavior. His trip to meet with the Emperor had been months ago so if he had done something wrong surely Maximilian would not have waited so long to report his bad behavior.

 

“You were also to check on Katherine’s sister, Joanna. Did you do that?” Arthur demanded.

 

“Yes I…” Henry trailed off. His eyes widened and he paled when a horrifying realization dawned on him as he realized what his brother was talking about.

 

“I sent my ambassador to check on her as well only for his request to see be denied. He had to bribe a member of the Emperor’s household to find out why. Apparently three months ago the Emperor had found out that Infanta Joanna had asked the nuns for a certain herb that induces miscarriages. Apparently she had gotten pregnant. She has not revealed who the father was and thankfully, the Emperor has no attention of finding out. Do you know what could have happened if he had found out that you were the father of his grandchildren’s bastard half-sibling?” Arthur demanded, unable to look at his brother in fear that he might throttle him.

 

In truth, he was angrier at himself than Henry. Why had he been so stupid to think Henry could be trusted to behave himself?  When would his brother grow up and start acting responsible? It felt as though every time, he gave Henry an inch, it always ended up backfiring on himself.

 

“I suspect as he is already doing, he would make sure to cover this whole situation up so no one would know about it. The last thing he would want is to embarrass himself by openly acknowledging what I have done,” Henry guessed logically, trying not to think about the fact that Joanna had purposely sought to kill his child. Of course he understood why she had done so but that didn’t stop the feeling of despair at knowing he had lost out being a father twice.

 

“True but he could have decided not to go through with the betrothals between Infante Charles and Katherine as well as William and Infanta Mary,” Arthur remarked. “He could have come up with some sort of excuse to do so. You could have wrecked your nephew and niece’s future.”

 

“At least they have a future,” Henry spat out, feeling slightly angry at what he perceived as insensitivity on his brother’s part.

 

The king sighed, shaking his head sadly. “Henry, even if Katherine’s sister could have your baby, even if you could acknowledge the child as yours, there is absolutely no way Emperor Maximillian would allow you near him or her,” Arthur told him, with an ounce of sympathy in his stern tone.

 

“I know, I just long to be a father. To have what you have with your children,” Henry admitted, feeling surprisingly vulnerable. He looked away, embarrassed by his own foolishness. Joanna would have only been about two months pregnant when she decided to induce a miscarriage, his seed would have only began growing in his womb but that didn’t stop the jolt of sadness coursing through him that he felt knowing that he had lost another child.

 

Arthur let out another heavy sigh, deciding that yelling at Henry would do neither of them any good. “I have already sworn my ambassador to secrecy and as far as I am concerned no one else including Katherine should find out about this. What’s done is done. The best thing for all concerned is for all of us to forget it ever happened,” Arthur decided, finally looking at Henry in order to give him a stern look. “Unfortunately that means I cannot give you an adequate punishment without it being questioned, so let me make this very clear. If you put one toe out of line ever again, you will lose your position as president of my privy council. Is that clear?”  

 

“Yes Arthur and for what it is worth, I am sorry about this,” Henry apologized earnestly.

 

“Well that’s a start, I suppose,” Arthur grumbled. “You may go.” 

 

As Henry left, he remembered what Marguerite had said to him when she deduced what he had done. He wondered if her reaction to his meeting with Arthur would be to tell him she had told him so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John is continuing to spiral downwards.  
> Margaret is not plotting but she has pretty big blinders when it comes to Katherine and Arthur so the idea of William deciding to marry Anne, spurning his parents' choice of bride is something she's okay with especially when Anne is her student and therefore someone she can mold.  
> Charles and Elisabeth are slowly becoming my favorite couple to write about. I might tone down the love triangle I'm planning.


End file.
